Recovery and Resolutions
by nick48654
Summary: As Nick recovers from injuries incurred in the line of duty, the relationship between Nick and Judy continues to grow, and Nick continues his own journey to maturity.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

This is the third story in my Zootopia fan fiction series. The first story, **A Week In the Life** , takes place after Nick has completed most of his year long probationary period following graduation from the Zootopia Police Academy. The second story, **Another Step on the Path** , takes place immediately after the end of **A Week In the Life**. This story starts a couple of weeks after the end of **Another Step on the Path** , after Nick has been released from the hospital, but is still recovering from his injuries.

Recovery and Resolutions

 **Summary**

As Nick recovers from injuries incurred in the line of duty, the relationship between Nick and Judy continues to grow, and Nick continues his own journey to maturity.

Chapter 1: Baby Steps And "Minor" Diversions

The early morning light streamed into the fox's bedroom. Nick kept his eyes closed; it was so nice to just lie here, in his bed, breathing cautiously so as not to aggravate his still-sore ribs.

The door swung open, and an eighteen year old bunny in a tie-dyed t-shirt and frayed blue jeans bounced in, carrying a breakfast tray loaded with food. "Wakey-wakey, Mister Wilde. Time to get up and smell the flowers!"

Nick opened his eyes; he tried not to glare at the too-happy-for-this-hour-teenager, then took a slow deep breath, and let it out with an audible 'whoosh' before he began working himself back up the bed, to prop himself up against the wall. "Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," he said.

"Now you know I told you to call me Lizzie – just like sis."

"And I asked you to call me Nick – Mister Wilde was my dad," he said, for likely the twentieth time. _I will not bite off her head – figuratively speaking – she is Carrots' sister, and she would not approve,_ he thought, careful to keep the feral grin off his muzzle.

The rabbit set the breakfast tray down in front of him. "The pot is full of that horrid catnip tea, and I made up the eggs the way she said you liked. The turkey strips are well done – crispy – but I don't understand how anyone could like such things."

The scent of the cooked meat and eggs brought a smile to Nick's face, and made the rabbit wrinkle her nose in disgust. He could practically read her thoughts: _disgusting things these predators eat_. Nick grinned wider, and licked his chops. Then he looked up and looked the bunny over from head to toe; he shifted his focus to her eyes, and locked her in a predatory-on-prey stare until she nervousely backed out of the room.

Nick shook his head. _I didn't bite her, and she is way too cheerful for a pre-catnip tea morning. Maybe she won't carry tales to Carrots_. It was something to hope for, anyway.

A devastating attack on the eggs and turkey strips took less than a minute; the catnip tea took several minutes more to consume. "You can come back, Miss Elizabeth; I promise not to bite," he called out.

The teenage bunny opened the door and peeked into the bedroom. After taking a moment to survey the carnage, she bounced into the room. "Goodie, you ate everything! Jude will be happy that your appetite is returning. Now you just have to get up and do your stretches!"

Nick looked up at the ceiling and groaned theatrically. The requisite physical therapy was one of the less pleasant parts of his enforced vacation.

"Do you need any help dressing?" the bunny asked.

"No, I think I can manage it this time, Miss Elizabeth."

"Are you **_suure_**?" Lizzie dragged out the last word, as she slinked up to the bed.

"Yes, now if you'd remove this," Nick pointed to the breakfast tray, "and leave me to my prescribed tortures, I will be dressing myself."

"I can help, a **_lot,_** helping…"

 _I can just imagine the sort of "help" you'd like to give,_ Nick thought, as he kept a friendly grin on his face, and deflected an inquisitive bunny paw that was trying to sneak under the covers and under his night clothes. "I'm sure you could – but I have to learn how to do some things myself, again. You understand, don't you?" he said, trying his best to appear innocent.

"I'll be just on the other side of the door, if you need me…" Lizzie said as, defeated, she withdrew an inquisitive paw and removed the breakfast tray.

With the door closed, and the teenage bunny on the far side, Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't really want to rat out the bunny, but her "attentions", after her nearly two weeks as a "helper", were driving him to distraction. _Now if it were Carrots, I wouldn't have this problem, but … she isn't on medical leave, so has to spend the week working. If tonight weren't "flicks night", I'd go stark raving mad._ But delaying the inevitable was just that – delaying it. He had to get up, do his stretches, and get dressed. Lounging around in his underwear was out of the question what with Elizabeth Hopps staying in his apartment as his "helper" while he recovered from his injuries.

 _I survived being knocked on my back by that shotgun blast, I can survive one oversexed teenager. I think._ He checked his clock. _Eight am – Carrots will have been on shift for an hour already; another eight hours to shift change, then another half hour for her to get here. I can last, if I can survive my last physical therapy session today. And Miss Elizabeth._

#

The physical therapy session had been bad; not as bad as the first, but still high on the list of "not fun" activities. The news that he would be cleared for limited duty the next week almost made up for the three hours of physical torture. _I never thought that I'd be happy to be doing paperwork at my desk – but after too many days closeted with Carrots' sister – my "nurse" – anything will be an improvement._ He took the stairs up to his apartment. _I'd take the stairs even if this route hadn't been ordered._ He'd never entirely trusted the many-times-repaired holdover elevator from a previous century.

 _If Carrots was here with me, she'd be insisting on taking the stairs three at a time,_ he thought, and chuckled to himself. He glanced at his watch; she'd likely be showing up any time now – her shift was already over, if she hadn't been put on O-T, or gotten distracted by some bit of paperwork, the details of the latest case, or some cleanup on an earlier case.

He breathed in the scents of the hallway as he came to his door. He could identify his own scent, of course, and lapine scent – too old and faint to distinguish between the two sisters. Key in the lock, and he opened the door carefully and slowly, peering into the room around the door before entering. "Carrots? Are you here?" he called out. No answer. "Miss Elizabeth?" Again, no answer.

He closed the door, and took a deep breath. The lapine scent in the entryway was old, and faint. He glanced at his watch. _Ok, "Miss Elizabeth" must be out getting groceries, and Carrots hasn't gotten here from ZPD. So … time to start the popcorn – she ought to be here in … oh … ten minutes? Fifteen? Hit the washroom first, though_.

He was ten feet from the washroom when the door burst open, and a lapine doe launched herself through the air to wrap her legs around his waist. Lizzie called out, "Surprise!" and Nick tumbled backwards, unbalanced by the sudden added mass and momentum.

Nick fell just as he'd been trained at the Academy; only the protests of muscles injured earlier caused him to cry out in pain. Lizzie landed on top of Nick, her legs still wrapped around his waist; she leaned forward and kissed the prone fox passionately.

Just then, the apartment door opened and Judy Hopps stepped into the apartment. "Lizzie!" she shouted, and bounded over to where the lapine and vulpine forms were lying, entwined in front of the open washroom door. She pulled her sister off Nick, and held her by her shoulders up off the floor, and pinned up against the now shut bathroom door. "You leave Nick alone! If you've hurt him, so help me God, I will tear off your face and use it as an oven mitt!" Her foot was thumping on the floor at 60 hertz.

"Let your sister go, Carrots," Nick managed to croak. "And help me up, please?"

Judy released her sister, and spun back to help her partner. Her foot thumping abruptly halted. "Are you hurt?" she asked, as she reached down and pulled the larger fox halfway to his feet. Nick pulled his feet up and then stood the rest of the way.

"Nothing serious," he said, endeavoring to dust himself off. "I need to vacuum this place up, I guess."

"Just what happened, Nick?"

"Hey, I'm still here, Sis! I just wanted to…"

Judy spun around. "Not. One. More. Word!" she barked, and then turned back to face her partner. "Nick, can you make it to the couch without assistance?"

"I think so, Carrots. And thanks for the assists – but we need to talk," he said, as he staggered over to the living room couch.

Judy turned back to her sister. "In the bedroom, now!" she said, in a deep, drill sergeant voice. Elizabeth scuttled into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, and Judy turned back to bounce across the apartment to settle into the couch next to Nick.

"I think your sister has worn out her welcome. I do not need a 'nurse' any longer, and I **_really_** don't care to have her trying to seduce me…"

"She tried to do **_what_**?"

Nick took a deep breath, and let it out with an audible "whoosh". "I said it, I meant it. I'm not talking about showing off various body parts – that's bad enough. I'm talking about trying to touch me in places that I only want **_you_** touching me – and making … suggestive … comments."

"Suggestive?"

"Ok, she made a few offers that could be interpreted more than one way."

"You're sure you weren't misinterpreting her statements? And why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"As I said, the offers could be interpreted more than one way. One way though, was generally rather more … suggestive … than appropriate. And I thought that I needed help around here – help that you could **_not_** provide. Also, she didn't do anything that couldn't be interpreted in two or more ways – at least, not until just before you came through the door, Carrots."

"Are you **_really_** ok, Nick?"

"Rather more or less. I was hoping that you would be here – and would welcome me in a somewhat less energetic way than your sister chose. My ribs are better, but they're still just a **_bit_** sore," he leaned over and kissed the rabbit doe on the forehead.

"She'll stay at my apartment tonight. And she'll be on the morning express tomorrow. Settled?"

"Settled. I don't want to be mean to her, and I know…"

"She wanted to spend the summer in Zootopia, but **_I_** will not put up with her making your life difficult. Changing the subject with an audible clashing of gears, though, what did you have in mind for tonight's flick, Nick?"

Nick sighed. "Ok, enough seriousness for one evening. I thought we'd put on **Titanic**."

"Oh, that's a **_wonderful_** movie. The male protagonist dies, and then his love lives a **_long_** life without him, and she commits suicide in the end. Could you have picked **_anything_** more depressing to watch?"

Nick opened his mouth and tried to respond, but could only sit there, his mouth opening and closing with not so much as a squeek emerging.

"A nice impression of a beached fish, Nick. But I think that we might want to try **_something_** else? Perhaps a Shakespearean tragedy, where bodies are strewn like cordwood in the end? Or perhaps **On The Beach** , where all life on the planet dies in the end?"

"Ah, Carrots, what's gotten in to you tonight? Normally, **_I'm_** the one given to a cynical outlook. Did your day go … badly?"

It was the rabbit's turn to sigh. "Ok, it might have gotten to me a bit. I was hoping to have a nice, quiet, cuddly evening with you – and I come in to find you and sis 'wrapped up' on the floor. It just 'made' my day, if you must know."

"It wasn't my choice, I assure you…"

"I know you, Nicholas Piberius Wilde – you prefer monogamous relationships, and with the partners you've had in past, I **_really_** believe you. That was no hustle."

"When you use my middle name, I'm usually in trouble. Should I be running for cover?"

"No. But today was … bad. I was in court."

"The Pelter case? I thought…"

"No, Ivanov. I was questioned regarding the events leading up to … your …"

"Yeah, reliving my being shot must have been rough," Nick said, and leaned over to kiss the rabbit on her forehead. Or he tried, at any rate – Judy pulled back and glared at the fox.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"What? Kiss you?"

"Where you were trying to kiss me – on the forehead. Like I was **_your_** sister. My thoughts about you right now are anything but sisterly, mister," she said, and pointed at her lips. "And if you miss these, Mister Nicholas Piberious Wilde, you **_will_** regret it."

"Ok, I can take a hint – when it hits me in the face."

"You normally aren't this slow, Nick. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Just sore ribs."

"What does that have to do with …"

"You go in for hugs – and you're a lot stronger than you look."

Judy giggled. "I promise to be gentle."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Saturday's child is loving and giving

Nick woke up, feeling refreshed and definitely at peace. And also cold. _Someone has been playing 'thief of blanket'_. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked over at the culprit: one Judith Hopps, now wrapped in a cocoon formed from his blanket and top sheet.

He sighed, settled back onto his back, and checked his watch. It was nearly six thirty. He'd not had as much sleep as he might have liked the previous night, but the exchange of sleep for "other activities" was well worth it in his opinion. _I'll let Carrots sleep on – she needs the sleep likely more than I do. Court appearances are always a trial_ , he chuckled at the thought. _That's a pun I'll have to remember and spring on Miss Fluffy buns when she needs a laugh – or a groan._

Nick was still chuckling when he sat down at his work desk and pulled out a stack of papers and his checkbook from a locked drawer.

#

Nick looked down at his watch after he sealed the last envelope. _Nine forty-five. Carrots must have been really exhausted._ He set the form filled envelops aside. _Breakfast for the rabid rabbit_.

He whistled while he prepared the salad. He looked over the mix when he was finished with chopping and dicing: watercress, green bell pepper, fennel leaves, carrot tops, and one finely chopped apple. _Favorite foods, for a favored partner_. _No, not for "just" a partner anymore. She's much more, now. Now, what would be the perfect dressing? Thousand Island is just plain out – the egg yolk would be recognizable and, though my carnivorous tastes would enjoy it, the egg taste in my homemade mayonnaise would turn Judy's stomach. Continental dressing, that's the one!_

He dug out the ingredients: vinegar, catsup, sugar, paprika, salt, oil, and Worcestershire sauce. _Perfect_ , he thought. He whisked together the mix, adding salt to his taste. When the other ingredients were thoroughly mixed, he began adding a steady stream of oil, and continued until the mix was perfect. He added the dressing to the salad, tossed it, and put a Judy sized serving into a chilled bowl that he pulled out of the freezer.

Carefully balancing the bowl in one paw, he opened the bedroom door and backed in to stand beside the bed. He looked over at the still-sleeping rabbit doe, and grinned. _There are some opportunities that are too great to pass up_. Nick carefully set the salad aside in a safe place, and then took a deep breath, " **OVERSLEPT! YOU ARE DEAD, COUNTRY-GIRL!** " he bellowed, in his best imitation of their mutual night terror, the sow polar bear drill sergeant from the Academy.

The rabbit bounded out of the bed, the sheets and blankets flying; she began remaking the bed on automatic until she came fully awake. She straightened up, and glared at the gloating fox. "You. Are. So. DEAD!" she said, and lunged.

Nick stood still, and let the bunny "attack" him, mock cringing as the attacker attempted to find ticklish spots. "Not there…no…not there either…" he said, then laughed and arched his back as the rabbit finally found a sensitive spot. "Ok … there … is … sensitive. Point made," he finished, and broke up laughing.

"Ok, why did you wake me up that way?" Judy asked.

"It's after ten, and you weren't up. I thought you might like something to eat before lunchtime," he said, and pointed to the salad.

"Oh … you made breakfast?" She took a deep breath. "But I need a shower – after last night. Care to join me?" she said, and grinned up at the fox.

"Ah … I don't think I'd survive it. You shower, and I'll set the salad out on the coffee table."

"Good idea about the salad, bad idea about not joining me. Are you **_suure_** you wouldn't like to?"

"I would **_like_** to, it's just that I'm not sure I could survive another lapine-doe-attack like last night."

Judy's eyes widened. "I wasn't that demanding … was I?"

"It was fun at the time, but … let's just say that you 'do know how to multiply'," Nick replied, and reached over to rub the top of the rabbit's head. "If you don't cool down those ears they're going to burst into flames," he added, as he stopped to examine the doe's blood flushed ears.

"Ok, I can take a hint, foxie. I'll take a cold shower – and I'll just hog the fur dryer a bit longer afterwards to make up for it," Judy said, and headed off to the shower, tossing off her nightgown as she went.

#

"What is that horrible smell?" Judy asked, as she bounced into the living room, wearing one of Nick's Hawaiian shirts and a pair of tight jeans.

"My lunch, if you must know, Carrots. I eat …"

"Bunnies?" Judy interrupted, as she settled into the couch, and pulled her salad close.

"Meat, fluff-buns, meat! Get out of the gutter…"

"I'm blocking your snorkel? Care to unwrap the meat?" She asked and turned to face the fox.

Nick sighed. This was not something he'd expected. "You don't need to compete with your sister, Carrots. I did not find it that attractive from her – and I rather like **_you_** **.** A sometimes more aggressive bunny may be within my comfort zone, but…"

"Ok," she said, and sighed rather melodramatically. "I just suppose I'll have to save up my passions for another day when your ribs aren't bothering you as much. You foxes are just **_so fragile_**."

"Eat you breakfast, and I'll finish my lunch – it's ground turkey sausages, in case you're curious." Nick laughed; the lapine response was the bilabial fricative.

#

"Nick, what are these?" Judy asked, holding up the thick envelopes that had been on Nick's desk.

"Government forms."

"Ok, **_what_** government forms?"

"Amended tax returns."

"I thought you filed **_correct_** returns after you went off to the Academy. What are these?"

"They're for the three years **_before_** I 'went straight'. The government doesn't really care to put tax … avoiders …"

"Tax **_evaders_** , Nick," Judy interrupted.

"Tax **_avoiders_** , Judy, into jail. The Feds – and the State – would just as soon get their tax due – plus interest and penalties – rather than put people who weren't quite as good at keeping accurate records into jail."

"Were you honest, Nick?"

"Well … as honest as I could be. I don't have absolutely accurate numbers for every day I worked my little hustles. Nothing I did ever involved either W-2s or 1099s."

Judy shook her head. "Didn't you even … no, of course you wouldn't have kept books. But where did the money come from to pay off the taxes, penalties and interest? And why…"

"The statute of limitations only runs three years on taxes – I've filed totally legitimate returns for the last two years and those forms are the amended returns for the three years prior to that. So I'll have five years of legitimate returns – that's two years **_more_** than needed to clear me of any legal liability."

"But where did you get the money to **_pay_** all those taxes plus penalties and interest?

"Gambling. All properly reported in this years' earnings. I got the W-2G forms for winnings quite legitimately…"

Judy glared at the fox.

"Really! I did!"

"Where did you gamble?"

"At the Palm Casino."

"But doesn't Mister Big…"

"Run the casino? No … not exactly. But he is the majority shareholder. And I did report my winnings accurately…"

"How much did you **_lose_**?"

Nick sighed. "About twenty percent of what I bet – but every time I won, my winnings went into a separate 'bag' and I didn't bet any of my winnings. But when I won, I reported it. And I…"

"So Mister Big laundered the money you made over twenty years of not reporting your income and now you think you're **_even_** with the suits in the capital?"

"Well … I've played by the rules. I 'delayed' payment on my taxes, but I have made good."

"With laundered money?"

Nick sighed. "With … gambling winnings. And I've gotten the 'urge to gamble' out of my system. I'm not addicted, see? I can quit any time – and I have. It's been six months since I so much as walked **_by_** the Palm Casino, let alone walked in."

Judy shook her head. "Just how much money is left out of your twenty years of cheating the government?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course, honestly, Mister slippery!"

"Not much."

"How much is 'not much', Nicholas Piberius?"

"Well … I can afford to take you to a Gazelle concert, and maybe – just maybe – I might be able to afford a VIP backstage pass. Or I might be able to get us tickets to the next World Cup game – if you don't mind sitting in the nosebleed seats. But … that's about it."

"So you've pretty much wiped out your ill-gotten gains?"

"They weren't 'ill gotten'. It was just a bit of deferred taxation management."

"So you sold the Feds a rug made of the fur of a skunk .. a skunk's butt," Judy said.

"No, this wasn't a skunk butt fur rug. Just the softest ventral fur rug this time. No guard hairs."

"You're incorrigible."

"No, only un-indictable, once I mail those envelopes."

"I'll walk you to the post office."

"Deal. And we can eat over at that place near your apartment … what was it called?"

"Berry-Berry."

"Right – Berry-Berry – after we mailed these. Your treat."

"What!?"

"Well, after these go out," Nick lifted the envelopes, "I'll be down to living solely on what a patrolman makes. No more dipping in to the reserves from earlier better paying days."

"Then how can you afford this place? Will you have to move?" Judy asked.

"This is a rent controlled apartment. I only pay $180 a month. There **_was_** a parking place, but I don't have a car and the added $10 a month seemed like a needless…"

"I spend a heck of a lot more for my hole-in-the-wall apartment with my crazy neighbors! Sweet cheese and crackers! How did you ever get this apartment?"

"When someone I knew passed on, they left the lease to me…"

"When they 'passed on'? Did you have anything to do with it?" Judy shuddered.

"No, she died of lung cancer. Her name was Sandra Getts – she was a gazelle who used to run a grocery near my mom's place. I helped her out after she was diagnosed – it only seemed fair." Nick took a deep cleansing breath. "She used to have the best fresh fruit, and I always bought from her store until she got sick. Then I helped her with her rent, and her medical bills."

"Why was Mister self-centered willing to do this for a prey animal?"

"You wound me, Judy," Nick said, his voice growing noticeably colder. "She was nice to me when I was a kit – I could always count on a small basket of blueberries or raspberries or something sweet in season. She **_cared_** about kits – all kits. And I was never that self-centered. All I said was that you should never let them know when they got to you – not that you can never let them get to you."

"I'm sorry, Nick. I guess I misjudged you … again. You're trying to 'make good', and I guess I should be more appreciative," she said, and reached out to cover the fox's paw with hers.

"I'd say you were appreciative enough last night – anymore and I'd be needing defib," Nick said, his tone lighter, and the trademark smirk back on his muzzle.

"You're incorrigible."

"You wouldn't have me any other way. But … let's get those envelopes posted before the next pickup, shall we?"

" **OH SWEET CHEESE AND CRACKERS! WHAT TIME IS IT?** " Judy pulled out her phone and checked the time. "Gottarun – havetogetLizzietothetrain. We'vemissedthemorning-express,butIshouldbeabletogethertothethreeo'clockexpress," Judy shot gunned out, and made a mad dash for the door. "Catchyoulater! I'lltextyou!"

Nick chuckled, picked up the pile of envelopes, and followed the rabbit out the door. _I'll have to find out just how bad Judy's court day was … later. With these posted,_ he thought, as he hefted the multiple ounce envelopes, _registered and return receipt requested_ , _my past will be a source of legal worries no longer._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Night Music

Nick was stretched out on the couch, his feet up and his eyes closed. He wasn't exactly sleeping, but he wasn't exactly awake either. The envelopes were all en route to the requisite government offices, and the receipts were pasted into his log books. Of course, it had cost him almost twenty dollars to have everything sent registered-return receipt requested, but … it was worth it. There'd be incontrovertible proof that he'd submitted the documents – and he had copies of everything he'd sent.

Now he was happily relaxing on his couch, and he had enough spare cash left for another evening out with Judy.

The door opened, and the pit-pat of soft rabbit steps could be heard creeping up on him. Nick kept his eyes closed, but took a deep breath as the bunny crept up on him; the breeze from the briefly open door, and the agitated air around the "stealthy" approach gave him the scent information that he wanted. _Carrots, trying to do something covert. We'll see what she's up to…_

A hand began stroking his tail. _Ok, that's a bit familiar, but not out of line, given what we were doing last night. Let's just see what else…_ His eyes snapped open, and he gasped as the rabbit began massaging something distinctly more "private" than his brush.

Nick let out a strangled bark, then a chirp of pleasure before he brought his paws over to protect the most sensitive areas. "I am awake, you realize," he said.

Judy grinned up at him. "I thought you were asleep – but now that you're wide awake, perhaps you'd like to indulge in a few more adult mutual pleasures?"

"Before you ravish this helpless fox, perhaps the ferocious lapine conqueror will consider going out to dinner with her prospective victim?"

Judy pulled herself up and buried her face in the fox's chest, laughing almost uncontrollably. "I yield to your superior silliness!"

"There's a new place that's been advertising like mad on the radio – 'Mixed Doubles'."

Judy snorted. "Sounds more like a tennis club. A theme restaurant?"

"Well … not exactly. It's a place for … ah … 'mixed couples' … like us."

"Oh, interspecies?"

"Yes. So we won't have to worry about discrimination."

"Are you sure about that?"

"No, but if they're pushing it as a selling point, I'm guessing that any discriminatory practices will be covert rather than overt."

"Worth a try, I guess. It couldn't be any worse than sitting down with my father," Judy said.

"Please – don't remind me. And speaking of family, did you get your sister on the train to Bunnyburrow without incident?"

"Well … I did get her on the train, yes. Without incident? That depends upon what you mean by 'incident'."

Nick's laugh bounced the lapine head from its resting place on his chest. "Ok, Fluff-buns, give!"

"Fluff-buns?!"

Nick leaned over and licked the fur on the lapine doe's head. "Ok, maybe a bit extreme, Carrots. But I could give you another even less printable nickname…"

"Don't. You. Dare!" Judy said, and slid one paw under the fox's Hawaiian shirt.

Nick leaned his head back and let out another pleasure-chirp. "Careful … Carrots … oh … stop or I'm going to go incoherent!" Nick took a deep calming breath, as the rabbit withdrew her paw. "But you're trying to distract me – rather effectively – but please, give?"

"About what?"

"About what is meant by an 'incident'. Your sister, remember?"

"Oh…well…we had a rather sharp discussion about gratitude. And sharing."

Nick looked at the rabbit's ears, which were now tickling the end of his muzzle. "From the blood rushing to your ears, I'd say you're trying to hide something."

Judy's ears flipped back and down, and she gulped.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Carrots. I mean, after what we've done already? Not that I've objected – last night was a taste of heaven – but my curiosity knows no bounds right now, and …"

"She said that you weren't grateful for the help she'd provided. And she was angry that I wasn't willing to share."

"Share?"

"You – you 'dumb fox'."

"Waitaminute! You mean she thought you should … what? Share me?!"

"That you weren't willing to … do with her what you'd **_clearly_** been doing with me – never mind that we **_hadn't_** done anything out of order, yet … and that I wouldn't share my 'toyfriend'," Judy said, in a whisper, her ears practically glowing with a rush of blood.

"'Toyfriend' – she actually called me that?"

"Yes."

Nick couldn't help it – he laughed, a true belly laugh. "I clearly do **NOT** have the vaguest clue regarding the nature of lapine sexuality…" he stopped, and let out a pained bark as Judy jabbed him under the ribcage. "That hurt!"

"You shouldn't make fun of me…"

"I wasn't – but I clearly didn't understand your sister. If I'd had the slightest clue to her mindset, I would have hired a regular nurse and thrown her out of my apartment in a Zootopian minute[1]!"

"So you're losing that edge of understanding people that you had as a con-artist?"

"If I am, it's a result of having given up my former profession and seeking to serve and protect the people of Zootopia from many of my former colleagues – turning away from the forces of Darkness to stand for the Light." The fox struck as heroic a pose as he could manage, prone on the couch with a rabbit lying on top of him, "Fighting for Truth, Justice, and the Zootopian Way!"

Nick's only answer from the lapine doe was, once again, a bilabial fricative.

#

Nick looked down at his clean plate. "That was … perfect."

"All that raw fish – I can't believe some of the things that go into that mouth of yours, Nick."

"Speaks the bunny that put some rather unusual things into her mouth last night?"

"Harumph! I thought we'd agreed not to discuss certain matters in public?"

"I don't recall saying anything untoward. And my statement is subject to multiple interpretations. As, I might note, is yours," Nick said, and licked his chops as lasciviously as he could manage.

"What do you call that … stuff?" Judy asked, clearly trying to change matters back onto safer ground.

"Sashimi. Raw fish – negi hama, that's the yellowtail, is a subtle flavor. A touch of shoyu – soy sauce – with just a bit of real wasabi – to add that 'certain something' and to bring out the flavor of the fish. And their wasabi isn't the green dyed horseradish, but the 'real stuff'. The toro – the fatty tuna – is a stronger taste. But it's **_good_**. Then the Spanish mackerel – that's the strongest, fishiest taste. Lots of oils, and the strongest scent of the trio. The gari – that was the pickled ginger – was just perfect for cleansing the palate."

Judy wrinkled her nose. "I suppose I deserve this – but could you have found **_anything_** more disgusting to eat than raw fish? The only **_good_** thing I can say about it is that it doesn't smell as bad as those turkey bacon strips that you are so crazy over."

"Please, don't disturb the perfect sensory combination of scent and after taste from fish with thoughts of greasy bacony chewy goodness!"

Judy shook her head. "You should eat more salads…"

"Assume I've just repeated my favorite description of salads, here."

"And assume that I've just replied with a bilabial fricative, Nickie-poo."

"Agreed. Do you have enough room for Berry-Berry?"

"For berries and cream? I think I can find room if we walk there."

"Deal," Nick said.

#

Nick tossed a blueberry up in an arc that landed in his mouth. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. "Perfect food."

Judy laughed. "You'll need to jog fifteen miles to make up for tonight's caloric intake, Nickie-poo."

"Actually, I suspect that I'll burn it all off tonight…ouch!" Nick jumped back and away from the rabbit. "That hurt!"

"If you keep up with the crude comments, I'll do a good deal more than just poke you under the ribs, Nick!" Judy said, and snapped at the fox. "My teeth are bigger than yours…"

"Now who is being crude, Carrots?"

"I can't help being shorter than you, fox-boy. Or should I start calling you 'toyfriend'?"

"If you do, I'll start talking about hasenpfeffer."

Judy glared at the fox. "Ok, what's that?"

"A spiced rabbit dish that foxes once ate, when we were savages…" Nick jumped back, not quite fast enough to evade another poke underneath the ribcage. "Ok, I'll be gentle when I …"

"Don't. Say. Another. Word!" Judy shouted.

Nick shrugged, and mouthed a word or two.

"Keep the thought, though, foxie. It was fun last night – but be careful. That tongue of yours is … a bit rough."

Nick went through a rapid sequence of gestures, each one less comprehensible than the one preceding it. Judy laughed, "ok, silly fox, you can talk again. But try and keep it clean?"

"If you promise not to use **_that_** word again, I will," he said, putting on a mock furious expression.

"And what word would that be?"

"The one ending in 'friend'."

"You don't want me to call you my boyfriend?" Judy asked. Nick glared at the bunny, and wrinkled his muzzle as if he were about to snarl, but spoiled the effect by chuckling. Judy struck a pose, "it's called a hustle, sweetheart," she said.

"Ok, I give up – I know when I'm beaten. But I'll bet that I can beat you to my apartment."

"Don't be silly, Nick. I'm a rabbit, and I'm faster than you are."

"You haven't seen me on the track."

"If you would go jogging with me in the morning, you'd be able to show off your track skills – whatever they might be."

Nick grinned and looked down at the lapine doe. "But we have to stretch first – wouldn't want you to lose because of a stitch in your side resulting from inadequately warmed up muscles."

"You realize how silly that would look?" Judy asked. As Nick began stretching, she couldn't help but giggle. "You're serious?"

"Do you think that … oof … I just sit … oof … and eat donuts and syrup drenched pancakes like Clawhauser?" Nick said, as he continued working through a basic series of stretching exercises. He stopped and looked at the bunny, who was staring at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns and a forked reptilian tail. "I'm serious – just because you've not seen me exercise doesn't mean that I don't."

"You've been laid up for a month – I was serious about you **_starting_** to jog with me, but you still need to get your wind back."

"Are you trying to protect me?"

"Yes, Nick. From your silly male ideas," Judy said, putting her foot down with an audible "thump".

"Ok, maybe we can just jog back to my apartment? You can watch me all the way, just to make sure that nothing goes wrong with my unexercised muscles."

"Ok, give **_me_** a chance to do some stretching exercises, too?"

Nick resumed his own exercises while the rabbit made her own preparations. "If I weren't to abstain from gambling, I'd be willing to wager something 'interesting' on which one of us can run the fastest."

"You know we're not supposed to gamble – none of us are," Judy said, as she continued to run through a simple set of preliminary exercises.

They were both done in a few minutes. "It's only about, what? Thirty blocks to my place? Roughly a mile and a half[2]," Nick said. "Just a little jog in the park."

"Now, you're just going to jog, Nick…" Judy said. And she took off, dancing backwards at first, until Nick took off as well. When Nick passed her, she had to turn and run for real[3].

#

"You…sneaky…fox!" Judy managed to gasp, as she passed the fox towards the end of the last block. "But…I…still…beat…you!" she managed to say, between gasps. Nick bent over, coughed and spat.

"Walk off the last few, Carrots. I guess I'm a bit out of practice. I should have lasted longer than just 2400 meters. I used to be pretty good in the 6k run. Now 2400 meters has me winded."

"You said that you were just going to jog," Judy said, her breath recovered.

"So … blame it on testosterone poisoning," Nick said, smirking. "And it was a hustle, sweetheart…ouch! That hurt!" Nick said.

"Let's go upstairs to your apartment – and I will **_not_** race you. But when we get there, I'll kiss it and make it better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. This is **_not_** a hustle…"

* * *

[1] _A New York minute is an instant. Or as Johnny Carson once said, it's the interval between a Manhattan traffic light turning green and the guy behind you honking his horn._

 _It appears to have originated in Texas around 1967. It is a reference to the frenzied and hectic pace of New Yorkers' lives. A New Yorker does in an instant what a Texan would take a minute to do._

From: . ?term=New%20York%20Minute

Since Zootopia is assumed to be patterned (in some sense) after New York, I've taken the liberty of stealing this bit of slang for use here. – The Author.

[2] A city block in Manhattan is roughly 1/20th of a mile. Since Zootopia is supposed to be patterned off Manhattan to a certain extent, I'm assuming roughly the same distance for a city block in Zootopia. – Author.

[3] Foxes are also very fast. They can run up to 45 mph. That is almost as fast as the blackbuck antelope, one of the world's fastest animals. From: .

An average rabbit can run anywhere from 25 to 45 mph (40 to 72 kph).

From: blog/bunny-facts-how-fast-can-a-rabbit-run – Author.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: How Sweet the Sound

 **Amazing Grace**

 _Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,_

 _That saved a wretch like me._

 _I once was lost but now I'm found,_

 _Was blind, but now, I see._

 _T'was Grace that taught,_

 _my heart to fear._

 _And Grace, my fears relieved._

 _How precious did that Grace appear,_

 _the hour I first believed._

To listen and see a wonderful performance of this song, the author recommends that readers check out Arlo Guthrie's performance on YouTube:

watch?v=B2vn5VIdnBw

Nick yawned, stretched, and rolled out of bed; the clock showed nine thirty. _Carrots has played thief-of-dblanket again_. He yawned, stretched again, and wandered over to his closet. _A bit more restrained shirt today – my one white shirt is clean and pressed. My one navy blue tie, and my one pair of black pants – definitely more restrained. But before I dress, there are other matters to deal with_ , he thought, catching a whiff of his own scent. _Shower,_ _ **then**_ _dress_.

#

Nick stood, head down under the shower head. He'd already soaked his front, and cleaned his ventral, arm, and groin fur. Now he was letting the warm water soak his head and neck fur, then roll down his back. It felt so good, just wetting his fur down to the skin. He felt the cold breeze on his back, then an inquisitive hand reached around to being playing with his ventral fur.

"Good morning, country-girl," he said.

"Mmmmm….it's time to save water…"

"And shower with a friend. Right. But the whole purpose of this shower…oooh…was…" the fox's breathing became heavier. "Stop, please? The whole purpose of this shower was to get **rid of** the scent of what we did last night."

"Mmmm….I think your scent is perfect right now," Judy said, her nose buried in the thick wet fur on his back.

Nick arched his back and moaned. "Your nose is **_cold_**!"

The rabbit pulled out of the fox's fur, and laughed. "'Cold nose, warm heart'. I can help you scrub your back."

"Ok, just my back. I've already cleaned up my front."

"Are you **_sure_**?"

Nick turned to face the now equally drenched rabbit. "Are you trying to channel your sister, Elizabeth?" he asked.

"No – but after what we've done already, I thought that our limits were … a bit broader?"

Nick took a deep breath, and winced. "Ok, but be gentle? My ribs are still sore. And I thought you wanted to go to church this morning?"

"Always finding excuses, foxie. Ok, I'll go easy on you and just help you clean up a bit. You can also help with my cleanup – I think that's something that **_you_** will like, hmmm?"

#

Nick was putting on the last touches, but he could still hear the large fur dryer running. _She_ _ **should**_ _take less time than I do – her fur is a lot shorter, and there's less of it_. He ambled into the kitchen, filled up a bowl with fresh blueberries, and headed back into the living room and settled down into his couch. He was halfway through the bowl when Judy strode into the room wearing only a small towel that she was using to dry the fur on her ears.

"Ah…Fluffy…don't you think you should cover up just a bit?" Nick said, and licked his lips. Judy grinned at Nick, bounced up to him and kissed him on the nose. "If you don't go into the bedroom and get dressed, Carrots, I'm going to have a very hard time not taking you there myself and doing various obscene things to you."

"I might enjoy that, Nick," Judy said.

"I know I would, but … if we're going to get to church without **_another_** bout of showering, not to mention 'other things', you **_really_** need to get dressed. You're more than a little bit overpowering, Carrots."

Judy laughed. "Fair enough, Nick. I'll stop torturing you," she said, turned and bounced into the bedroom.

Nick took a deep breath and let it out with an audible "whoosh", before flopping back onto the couch. _I don't know just what has gotten into Carrots these last couple of days, but … I'd be a fool not to say that I liked it._

#

Judy came out of the bedroom some twenty minutes later in a pale pink sundress and a matching large sun hat.

"Well … that's quite pretty, Carrots. Even if I have to admit I preferred your earlier style selection – at least for private display."

"Would you like a saucer of cream to go with that remark, Nick?"

"Hey, I **_love_** the way you look in your birthday suit – it's just that I find it hard to control my baser urges when you give me a private showing."

"Would you prefer I do it in public?" Judy asked.

"Do you want me to purchase memberships in Mystic Spring Oasis, then?" Nick countered, and chuckled when the lapine doe's ears flushed with blood. "Gotcha!" he called out.

"Incorrigible," Judy muttered, and poked the fox under his ribcage, then took one arm and dragged him out of the apartment. "Church, and we'll **_try_** to keep it respectable."

"I wasn't the one parading about, Fluffy," Nick said.

"For you – not for the public in general," Judy said. "After Church, I have to get back to **_my_** apartment – I need to get another change of clothes if I'm going to stay here tonight."

"Ah … we do have to get up early tomorrow," Nick pointed out, as he turned back to lock the apartment door.

"So we'll get to bed early tonight – or maybe we'll just go to bed when we get back from my apartment."

Nick shook his head. _I don't know what has gotten into Carrots, but I'm not going to argue with her. I just hope I can survive her._

#

Nick was chuckling as he walked out of Hopps' favorite church.

"A penny for your thoughts, Nick?" Judy asked.

"I knew that there'd be a lot of prey mammals in your church – I wasn't expecting that **_everyone_** there would be a bunny, with one exception – me."

"And this was funny?"

"It was … interesting. It was also refreshing that your pastor…"

"Joseph – his name is Joseph."

Nick nodded . "Your pastor Joseph didn't focus in on the one fox – the one predator – present. His sermon – doubtless prepared well in advance, unless a particular ZPD officer warned him that a certain pred might be attending – on acceptance of differences, was … fitting and appropriate."

"It didn't hurt that that selfsame predator has a very good singing voice," Judy said.

"I'll be better once my ribs completely heal, and I'll be able to breath properly without doubling over in pain."

"But with that voice – that heavenly voice – why did you go into a life of hustling? You could have made a good living as a singer," Judy asked.

Nick snorted. "For every Gazelle or Diamondé, there are a thousand starving singers barely getting by waiting tables or asking 'would you like fries with that?' in a fast food eatery. Same thing with acting – and I **_had_** to be a good one, to make most of my little 'business deals' work. Nothing in the arts could be expected to pay as well – or as predictably – as the jobs I could make for myself with my talents."

"And now you're a street LEO? You'll never get rich in our shared profession," Judy said.

"But I have a partner, recognition, and a few other things that can't be purchased with filthy lucre," Nick answered. He took a deep breath, and sang out, "I once was lost but now I'm found, Was blind, but now, I see," before doubling over coughing.

Judy patted him on the back. "Are you ok, Nick?"

"Getting there," he managed to say. "And you're helping … a lot." Nick leaned over and kissed the bunny between her ears.

"I told you **_not_** to do that, Nick!" Judy said.

"If I kissed you were I'd **_like_** to kiss you right now, it would shock your fellow church goers, Fluffy," Nick said, and licked his chops lasciviously.

Judy looked up at Nick, then rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible, you know that."

"Do I know that? Yes, yes I do," he said, in a fair approximation of Judy's voice – until a lapine elbow below his ribs brought him up short and brought on another coughing fit. "Keep **_that_** up, fluff-bun, and I'll be in no shape to do anything this afternoon but lie on my sickbed trying to get my breath back."

"Oh, you'll be in bed once we get back to your apartment, and you'll have trouble catching your breath, but it won't be from your injuries," Judy said in a soft, sweet voice before picking up the pace.

Nick shuddered, and increased his pace to catch up with the retreating bunny. "Whatever runs away is prey, Carrots…"

"Catch me if you can, foxie, catch me if you can…"

#

Judy rolled over and propped herself up on one elbow. She looked over at Nick, and smiled. "Why don't you try to make it – strictly on the side – as a singer, now? You wouldn't have to quit your day job, after all, and it **_is_** better than waiting tables."

"Yes, police work **_is_** better than waiting tables – and it also takes up more time. I can't just 'step out' for an audition, or switch to another police department because I want to 'go on the road' for a couple of months. We are what we are, Carrots."

Judy shook her head. "Emphatically, no! Take a look at where we are, now? Predator and prey, in bed together…"

"There are limits to the 'try anything' environment of Zootopia, Carrots. You've proven that mammals can do **_almost_** anything – but the key word is 'almost'."

"Are you saying that you don't want us to be together?"

"No, no, a thousand times no! I'm saying that I'm willing and happy to sing in your church – or at a Karaoke bar, if you decide to drag me to one. But that I don't think I'd go for a singing career 'on the side'. As to us? I'm frankly amazed that we've ended up in the situation we're in. Amazed, and overjoyed!"

"But you want us to be together?"

"Absolutely. And yes, it took me a little while to figure out just what I wanted – so forgive me for not being the introspective sort, or someone very much in touch with his emotions. I've had to survive by … ignoring 'softer' emotions for the most part. My attempts at finding 'the love of my life' were not particularly successful – until now. But now – yes, I do love you – although I do need to have you be just a bit more gentle."

"Foxes, so fragile!"

"Until my ribs heal completely? Yes."

"I promise to be more … gentle … then," Judy said and began grooming the fox's ventral fur with her tongue. "You just lean back, relax, and enjoy, Nick…"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: We Survive Weekdays

Monday

Nick sat through most of the morning briefing in the bullpen uncharacteristically silent. When Chief Bogo announced that he would be assisting with paperwork in the DA's office working with ADA Carolson, his only response was a softly voiced, "sir, yes sir". He did not even voice a protest when it was announced that Lieutenant Judith Hopps would be in court – likely for the rest of the week, giving testimony in the Ivanov case.

Fangmire followed the fox out and pulled him aside after the briefing was over. "Just what's gotten in to you, Wilde? You were anything but your usual snarky self this morning."

"Getting shot has something to do with it, Fangs. Besides, what could I do? Hopps is going to be in court all this week – and then, likely, partnered with the rookie coywolf again until I'm fit for full duty. It's all for the best."

"For the **_best_** , foxie? I'd have to be blind not to see that you and Hopps are good friends. Wouldn't you rather be out on the street with her?"

"Yes, I would. But this week she'll be in court. Next week? I'll **_not_** up to snuff by then – I wouldn't be able to help her if she needed it, I wouldn't be able to cover her back. What would you do if you weren't able to back up Delgato properly? You'd let someone else pair up with him, **_because you're a good cop_** **.** Grant that I'm a good cop at heart right now – even if my body isn't up for the duty." Nick's muzzle was curled up in a snarl.

"Relax, foxie. Just sympathizing with you. But it could have been a lot worse – you could have been assigned to Records, again."

"Amen to that, Fangs," Nick said, shaking his head as he headed off for City Hall.

It wasn't a long walk – a quarter of the way around the Plaza from the ZPD. It took him less than ten minutes to cover the distance, even at his temporarily reduced pace. He checked his watch as he strode into the cavernous entryway – it was just 7:30 in the morning, easily an hour before the lazier bureaucrats of the hall, and the late arriving lawyers and investigators of the DA's office normally put in their appearance.

 _At least I'm here at something resembling the proper time_ , Nick thought. The sound of his steps echoed through the halls, warning any and all of his approach. _Anyone here will know someone's coming – and with the slight breeze at my back, anyone who isn't scentblind will know_ _ **who**_ _is coming_. He couldn't help but chuckle (another sound to echo through the caverns). _Let them be afraid…very afraid…for that terror of prey animals, an adult fox is stalking the building_.

It wasn't more than another ten minutes before he was standing before ADA Carolson's office. He knocked, expecting no response; he couldn't help jumping back when the door was yanked open from inside the office. "Nick! I was so glad to hear that you were on the mend! Come in, come in! And sit down – I'm sure that you're just a bit 'under the weather'. Would you like some catnip tea? I was just brewing a pot."

"Thank you, Janet. And yes, I'd love a mug of tea," Nick said as he settled into the overstuffed leather "guest" chair on the near side of ADA Carolson's massive desk. "I've been assigned to assist in investigations for the DA's office – and I was told to report to you. So, what does the most attractive vixen in City Hall have for her poor temporary investigator this week?"

"Flattery will get you **_almost_** anywhere with me, Nick. I've got the files you'll need to look in to … here," she said, as she reached down behind her desk and lifted a large cardboard box filled with paper. She set the box down in Wilde's lap, and he made a near silent chirping noise.

"Ah … just how much … no … how many cases are we talking about, here?"

"Don't worry, Nick – it's just one case. Just a little bit more detail work – I've reserved a conference room for you to use as your office. You can spread everything out there – I had whiteboards and corkboards put in 'for the duration'."

 _And I thought this was going to be an easy week._ "Ah, so … can you give me a one sentence summary of this?" He pointed down at the heavy box with his muzzle.

"You're not going to like it, Nick."

Nick took a deep breath. "I'd like to think that we're friends, Janet. Don't sugar coat it – I just need something to start hanging … this … on. Please, give me a break?"

"Synthetic Midnicampum holicithias extract."

"Ok, give me the layman's version, please?"

"We can trace sales and transfer of Midnicampum holicithias – it's a class C botanical, and is at least **_somewhat_** under government control. Someone has developed a synthetic drug that mimics the key biochemical eliments of the M. holicithias plant extract."

"That's the **_layman's_** version? Janet, have mercy?"

The vixen took a deep breath. Her expression made it clear that she was quickly moving from "Nick is a friend" to "Nick is a source of irritation" state. "I'll count it off. One: Emmet Otterton. Two: Missing Mammal case. Three: Midnicampum holicithias, **_aka 'night howlers'_**. Four: extract therefrom, which causes a severe reaction when applied topically. Five: someone has developed a synthetic equivalent of that extract – with even less pleasant side effects. Does that get through that thick skull, Officer Nicholas Piberius Wilde?"

 _What is about females that they start using my middle name when they're annoyed with me?_ Nick took a deep breath. "This **is** bad. But why isn't this in the news? I haven't seen anything and this," he indicated the box of papers, "couldn't just be the reports for a day or two, could it?"

"It covers everything that we think is connected – but what we need is someone with a devious turn of mind to 'connect the dots'. I thought of you, and when I found that you were going to be brought back off medical leave this week…"

"We need a volunteer, his name is Nick Wilde," Nick chuckled. "But **_why_** would anyone want to synthesize that foul muck? And what could be **_less pleasant_** than 'going savage'?"

"How about boosting the victim's strength by a factor of five or ten – hysterical strength – and increasing the degree of rage beyond insanity, **_while leaving him his full intelligence_** **.** "

"But … if the synthetic doesn't strip away intelligence, can't the victim fight off the other effects?"

"Not that we've seen, so far. A dose does appear to have a time limit – it's not a near permanent effect like the natural product – but it's also addictive. The victims – and the addicts are victims – are stripped of any moral sense. They are in a state of euphoria … even as they are made insanely strong, enraged, and nearly immune to pain."

 **"The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde** , only for real. This sounds like something worse than the kill-videos case," Nick said. It felt like his gorge was rising.

"You understand, then. There have only been a few cases so far – and we've managed to keep things quiet."

"Why? Didn't Lionheart show that cover-ups get you into more trouble than any original criminal act?"

"It's only been four weeks since the first case – and ZPD has been handling it so far. There are several officers on undercover assignments. But we're not making any substantive progress – and you're the only available investigative officer. We've just not made anything public … yet. You'll have to keep quiet on this, too – until we have something that we can tell people. Otherwise, there'll be another panic."

Nick shuddered.

"Relax, Nick. You're one of the good guys, remember? So … help us put the bad guys away," Carolson said. "There'll be a big reward when you do," she finished, and came over to kiss him on the forehead.

Nick sat, silent for once.

"Now, go! Figure it out."

"Help with the box? I can't lift as much with my ribs…"

"Ok, Mister Walking-Wounded, I'll help you move the files and set up," she said, and grinned at the male fox.

 _Now I'm really in trouble_ , Nick thought.

Monday End-of-Shift

Nick settled into his desk; it was almost a relief to deal with **_his_** paperwork, instead of poring through the combined output of dozens of other officers. Not only was Precinct 1 involved in this one – the powers-that-be had pulled in officers from all the other precincts. _A full court press – no wonder they needed_ _ **someone**_ _to try and integrate the results. But why they chose me of all people, I will likely never know. Unless Bogo and his masters in City Hall just thought that a "sly fox with underworld contacts" might be able to see something that a more upstanding officer might miss. And I am Marie of Romania._

#

Nick checked the single hair that he'd pasted up at the top of his door before he put his key in the lock. It was missing; someone had entered his apartment while he had been gone. He examined the lock carefully – no obvious scratch marks, so it hadn't been forced, and anyone who could pick his door lock without leaving marks was an expert the likes of which he'd never met. So, by process of elimination, it was likely Carrots. So, the question was – how to enter?

He unlocked the door, and took a deep breath before throwing the door open and dove through the door in a rolling dive, ending up in a crouch.

Judy giggled, and applauded. "That was the most overdramatic entry I have seen in a **_long_** time. And I thought that your ribs were still sore – what happened?"

Nick stood, tried to dust himself off, and get a word out – all he could do was whine and gasp for breath; Judy was at his side in a heartbeat. "You're hardly wearing anything…" he managed to squeak, once he caught his breath.

"It's called a 'teddy', foxie. Would you have preferred that I welcome you with nothing on, just holding that hideous mug of yours full of hard cider in my paws?"

"I don't think I'd survive that, Fluffy."

"The cider or me?"

"The answer should be too obvious for words, Fluffy."

Judy giggled, and drew the fox close.

Friday Evening, Nick's Apartment

"So, Fluff, how was your week? Have you been released from durance vile, yet?"

"I finished my testimony this afternoon. And if I never have to see the inside of a courtroom again, it will be way too soon."

"So, you're saying that your time in court was a trial?" Nick said, and deftly dodged the pillow that Judy threw at him – but the rabbit leapt on him, tickling him where she knew it would do the most good. "Pax! Peace! I surrender!" Nick cried.

Judy relented, after drawing a few more requests for surrender from her vulpine partner. "And how did **_your_** week go? Found anything yet in the pile of papers that everyone has been generating?"

"I'm beginning to see a pattern to the drug busts – the distribution **_seems_** to have some sort of sense behind it. I'm not sure just what, yet. But … a bit more data, a few more connections, and I think I'll have something reasonable to report."

Judy propped herself up on her elbow, and slid closer to the fox.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Everything is worse on Mondays

0540 hours Monday, Nick Wilde's Apartment

"I can almost welcome the otherwise-nearly-intolerable creature that is Monday … this time, at least," Nick said, as he brushed the fur on his neck.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself in the mirror, Nick," Judy said, as she took a buffing cloth to her badge for the tenth time in less than three days.

Nick smirked, and looked over his shoulder at the lapine doe. "You should talk, Carrots. If I weren't using it to make sure I'd caught all the rough spots, it would be you here – standing tippy-toe atop the trash can – to check your loveable, fuzzy, adorable…"

"Skip the 'c' word, Wilde, or I'll do something nasty…" Judy interrupted.

"I was about to say, 'cuddly' – self in the mirror," Nick finished. He took a deep breath, and snarled at the mirror. Then he relaxed for a moment, and struck as fierce a pose as he could manage; his muzzle was wrinkled back in a silent snarl, the white of his carnassials exposed, his jaw slightly open as if he was preparing to bite, and one paw up, claws out. He held the pose for a long three count, then shrugged.

"Just **_what_** are you trying to do, Nick?" Judy asked.

"Practicing intimidation. If I don't practice, I might not be able to manage it when I really need it."

" ** _Why_**?"

"I've been away from the street so long, now, that I'm afraid that I'm going to lose my edge – that I'll just become such a warm and cuddly… ** _OUCH!_** **"** he jumped back and to one side, nearly tumbling backwards into the tub, as Judy poked him just under the ribcage.

"I will 'warm and cuddly' you, if you don't stop teasing me."

"I wasn't teasing, Carrots – I was deadly serious!" Nick said, as he straightened himself up and tucked the ends of his uniform tunic into his pants. "You're making me into such a 'lovable critter' that I have to work at remembering what it is to be a fearsome predator…"

Judy threw up her hands and walked away, shaking her head, muttering "incorrigible, utterly incorrigible."

"I'm being honest with you, Carrots – if I don't exercise my 'war face', I'm going to turn into a milquetoast simply for lack of practice."

The only sound from the kitchenette was a lapine bilabial fricative.

0700 hours Monday, ZPD Precinct 1, The Bullpen

"We have four items on our agenda today. First, Lieutenant Hopps has completed her testimony in the Ivanov case – welcome back from your paid vacation, Hopps, now you can get back to real work," Bogo said.

Nick bent over slightly and whispered next to Judy's ear. "Bullbutt is in good form today."

Judy poked the back of Nick's right leg with the claws on her left foot, keeping an attentive eye on the Chief.

"Next, we have two new recruits – our second fox, and another wolf. I should mention their names, but I just don't care. Our new fox will be on loan to Vice for a couple of days. Francine – you will take what-his-name, our new wolf rookie, under your wing until I can get around to assigning him a final training officer."

"An excellent motivational moment, sir, if I do say so…" Nick began.

"Shut **_up_** , Wilde," Bogo said, and resumed the briefing.

"Third, we have a street racer problem – again – in the Rainforest district. Hopps and Reynolds – you're on this one. And since Officer Wilde has been doing such a wonderful job assisting in the DA's office, he will continue his paid vacation in an air conditioned office there again today. The rest of you are to take these packets," Bogo began handing out case folders to the other officers, "and trace down the leads that Officer Wilde's imagination and CIs[1] have provided us from his last week in City Hall – there is something very unpleasant going on out there, and City Hall **_and I_** want the matter resolved." Bogo resumed his position at the front of the bullpen, and put away his reading glasses. "And all of you, remember – stay safe out there!"

1147 hours Monday, ZPD Precinct 1 (Clawhauser's desk, whatever it's called)

"O-M-Goodness! Nick! I thought you were going to be in City Hall all day!" Clawhauser exclaimed.

"No, lawyers take long lunch hours – so I'm 'on my own' until 1:30 today," Nick replied.

"But wouldn't you still be organizing and correlating reports for them, even if they're out to lunch?"

"Should have paid attention this morning, Ben. I've pretty much wrapped up all that I can do with the reports in so far – until I get the results of the legwork that everyone's doing right now, I'm just helping ADA Carolson with her paperwork."

"You're a paralegal, now?" Clawhauser asked.

"Hardly. No, I'm just moving boxes, carrying books, and shuffling papers around to get signatures. Oh, yeah, I did have to carry a bunch of stuff to one of the judges for her – and the judge will be reading through the pile to give some kind of answer about some legal 'thing' by tomorrow morning sometime. Just 'strong back, weak mind' kind of stuff."

"But I thought your ribs were still on the mend…"

"They're ok as far as I can tell – the medicos are just a bit too anxious, or I'd likely be back on real duty today. Anything happening out in the real world?"

"No, not really. No one's reported in on anything important."

"No sign of the street racer in the Rainforest?"

"Well … Lieutenant Hopps and Officer Reynolds have crisscrossed the whole district – Hopps has even started complaining about the lack of leads."

"Hmph. If Carrots is stuck, maybe the street racer's gone to ground for the day?"

"Who knows?"

"Also – what can you tell me about the two rookies we got today?"

"Officer Joseph Wolf is an ex-Navy MP. Did four years, took the exam here rather than re-enlist. Seems like a nice enough guy. The vixen? Don't know about her."

"What have they got her doing in Vice? I thought that was kind of a cushy job posting. She … ah … do something … to get the temp assignment?"

"O-M-Goodness, no! But they have her running a 'John trap' over by the docks. You should have seen her when she left!"

"I hope she's got decent backup – the docks are kind of 'rough territory'. Worse than Foxtown, that's for sure."

"I guess you'd know about that, Wilde. But she's got two officers from Vice backing her – a wolverine and a honey badger."

"Ok, the wolverine must be Nat – Nathaniel Woodruff. There are a couple of honey badgers in Vice – anything more that you know than species?"

"Why, Nick? You going to try for a transfer to Vice?"

"No, just curious. There are … like … five possibilities. Two males, three females. All of them thoroughly badass types. I always like to have the answers is all."

"And that's why you're at **_The Lion's Den_** three times a week?"

"Hey, it pays to get to know everyone, and the best way to do that around here seems to be to share a drink or two. And what better place to do it than at a LEO[2]-bar? And when the owner names his bar **_The Lion's Den_** , what could be more natural than that we all pass through it a few times each week. Though I haven't seen you there, Ben. Why is that, hmm?"

"Before Carlos retired and opened his bar … we didn't exactly get along."

"Oh? He have a problem with other cheetahs?"

"No – he just didn't like my eating habits. That and he didn't like my choice of drinks."

Nick cocked his head to one side. "Your 'choice of drinks'? What does that have to do with anything?"

Clawhauser crouched low on his seat, and his voice dropped to a near whisper, "he said I liked 'sissy drinks'."

Nick shook his head. "Of all the things to get upset over. I take it you prefer the kind of drinks that have little umbrellas in them?"

"Well … yeah … do **_you_** think that makes me a sissy?"

Nick shook his head in the negative. "Not from where I sit. We have different tastes – I prefer hard cider. That and strawberry daiquiris. Of all the things to get upset…"

"Bravo 21, in pursuit, requesting backup," interrupted the two officer's impromptu bull session.

Clawhauser grabbed the microphone and pulled it close. "Bravo 21, this is dispatch – what is your location?"

"Dispatch, Bravo 21, we are heading North on Topanga Canyon in the Rainforest District."

"Bravo 21, this is Dispatch. **_Where_** are you on Topanga Canyon?"

Nick muttered, half to himself, "that road is a good 20 miles long – it runs clear out of town into the hinterlands."

"Dispatch, Bravo 21. Hold!"

Clawhauser began muttering himself, but he carefully kept his thumb claw off the transmit button. "And people wonder why I eat so much – this job makes me **_so_** nervous. It sounds like…"

"One of the rookies – Reynolds, the coywolf," Nick supplied.

"Dispatch, Bravo 21, just passing Summit Road headed North on Topanga Canyon."

Nick shuddered. "That's two lanes with no stop lights, but with some cross traffic, Ben. They're maybe two and a half miles from a really twisty section – weren't Delgato and Fangmire checking out leads up there, around Dumetz and Canoga?"

"Right – they could set up a block at Topanga and Cezane," Clawhauser said, and called up the other two officers, redirecting them to set up a roadblock at that "good" location at the end of a straightaway. Almost as an afterthought, Clawhauser suggested that Fangmire lay out a spike strip "just in case" as well as blocking off the Southbound traffic.

"Isn't Reynolds paired with your partner, today?" Clawhauser asked.

"Yeah. You don't mind of I just stay here and listen in, do you?"

"No," Clawhauser said, "but if Chief Bogo sees you…"

"I'll just sit down then," Nick said, settling into a spot where Clawhauser's desk would hide him from the upper landing and the Chief's office. A minute later, the radio comm came alive again.

"Dispatch, Delta 15, at Topanga and Cezane. Fangmire is putting out the spike strip, and this is Delgato – I have blocked off traffic heading South. Standing by."

"Dispatch acknowledges. Bravo 21, this is Dispatch. Delta 15 is in position at Topanga and Cezane, roadblock and spike strip laid. Delgato and Fangmire standing by," Clawhauser was all business on the mike.

"Dispatch, Bravo 21 acknowledges – Delta 15 standing by at Topanga and Cezane. ETA two minutes."

Nick took a deep breath, and let it out with an audible "whoosh". This was always the hard part; the wait. _Hope that Carrots keeps in control – I_ _ **know**_ _she's a good driver, but … if she gets distracted it won't be good_. Seconds seemed like hours, but Nick glanced at his watch as the mike came alive again after only ninety seconds.

"Dispatch, Delta 15. Suspect hit strip, tried to dodge around block – hit a tree and rolled. We're going to need a bus – he's gone down into the gully. Bravo 21 arriving."

"Dispatch, Bravo 21, at scene."

"Bravo 21, Delta 15, Dispatch acknowledges. Sending bus," Clawhauser said. He took out his city issued phone, typed a short message, and keyed it off. "There. The ambulance will be on its way shortly."

"How 'shortly'?" Nick asked, and he began breathing again.

"It's from station 19 – this app picks the nearest available station. It should be there in a minute or…"

"Dispatch, Delta 15, shots fired … shots fired!" Delgato screamed, and the speaker went to "dead air".

Nick stood up and glared at the radio, as if his expression would suffice to elicit a more pleasant response from the responders at the far end of the link.

"Delta 15, this is Dispatch. What is your situation?"

"Dispatch, Delta 15 – Delgato here. The fracking perp fired something that damn near tore my ear off. It hurts like blazes, I am behind the car. Fangmire is getting out …"

Seven, eight, ten shots could be heard over the speakers in rapid succession, then the dull booming sound of a shotgun, then a few seconds of silence before Delgato resumed. "Officer down, repeat, officer down. Hopps and Reynolds have both been hit. Perp is also down. Where the hell is that bus?!"

"Delta 15, this is Dispatch. Bus is en route, ETA one minute."

"Ben – where will the Station 19 EMTs take people?"

Clawhauser looked at the fox. "They'd take them to CUZ[3] medical…"

"Tell Bogo that I'm on my way there, Ben," Nick said, as he set his own personal best for the 400 meter dash to the police garage and a waiting patrol car – any patrol car.

CUZ Medical Facility, Patient Room 215

"Geez, Delgato – you look like you've been through the wars. Were they able to put your ear back together, or what?" Nick asked. One side of the tiger's head was swathed in bandages. The tiger was sitting up in his bed.

"The sawbones said that they'd stitched it together – rather more or less. I'm supposed to stay here until tomorrow – they're afraid that I might have a concussion."

"Huh? I thought you said that it tore up your ear. How…"

"Bullet creased my skull and tore the base of my ear up. At that, I was damn lucky."

"Lucky? How? I'd have thought 'lucky' would have been not to be hit in the first place."

"Lucky in that the thermally sensitive round didn't detonate."

"Detonate?"

"Yeah. If a thermally sensitive round hits something cold – like metal – it remains in armor penetrating mode. If it hits a 'warm' target, like a mammal, it detonates. The grazing shot of my head didn't set it off – or I'd have ended up headless. So, yes, I'd call the result 'lucky'. I'm here and I'm alive, rather than dead and on a slab with a toe tag."

Nick shook his head. "Yes, I suppose you could call that being lucky. But why isn't Fangs visiting?"

"He was here a few minutes before you showed up – but his wife came along and dragged him out. You should have heard them – or rather, her," Delgato said, and then chuckled. "She was a bit … 'disturbed' … by what nearly happened to 'fangiepoo'."

"'Fangiepoo'? Oh ye Gods and Little Fishes! What a name for Fangs. He tolerated this?"

"Have you met his wife?"

"Not in circumstances like these. She seemed to be so quiet and unassuming…"

"Well, she was anything but quiet and retiring – she practically dragged him out by the back of his neck."

"Oh, for the lack of a camera! You didn't happen to get a snap of it, Delgato?"

"No, sadly. My camera is in my pants pocket – and they took my pants before they wrapped me up in these things," Delgato said, pointing to the patient robe. "These things," he pointed at the partial covering robe, "don't have any pockets – so it's just as well."

"It could have been worse. Anyway – you take care of yourself, and I'll be by to bring something edible for you next time."

"Yeah, hospital food is only food by a big stretch of the imagination."

CUZ Medical Facility, Patient Room 345

The lapine doe was resting on her stomach, her left rump wrapped in bandages.

"Hello, Carrots. I brought you a J-Juice."

"Oh? I can't move right now…"

"I can see that your ass is in a sling. That's where you were hit?"

"I. Am. Going. To. Hurt. You!"

"Kill me later, Fluff. Have a carrot-wheatgrass-strawberry smoothie first," Nick said, and laughed as he handed the small smoothie over.

"You're pardoned – this time."

"Figured as much. But you're ok?"

"Yes – though this is not going to be a scar that I'll be showing off."

"Except to select personnel?"

"Which, if you keep ribbing me, isn't going to include a certain fox."

Nick laughed again. "Ok, no more jokes, then. You were lucky this time – I checked on Delgato, and he said that the perp was using some sort of funny bullets."

"Yeah – 'thermally sensitive rounds'. I was lucky. The bullet that drilled my rump must have been a dud. Reynolds wasn't as lucky."

"Oh? Where's he at? I thought I'd…"

"He's dead, Nick."

Nick turned and looked away from his partner. He took several deep breaths. _Barely got to know him, and *poof* he's gone_. _And but for some good luck, it could have been…_

"Nick?" Hopps waited for a long five count. "Nick, are you still here? I can't see anything but the bed beneath me in this rig. Answer me? Please?"

Wilde took another deep breath and shuffled over to the side of the bed, where his partner would have a chance to see him. "I'm here," he managed to say, careful not to let his voice break. _Never let it show_.

"I know it's hard, Nick. But Reynolds was doing what he loved – and he was working to make the world a better place. What more can any of us do?"

"Maybe," Nick answered, with a voice suddenly grown cold. _Never let them know that they've gotten to you_. "I have to get back to City Hall. Let me know when you're going to be released? I'll help you get back to your apartment."

Judy took a sip from the contraband smoothie. "I will – but you'll visit in the meantime, won't you?"

"Yes, Fluff. Wouldn't want you to get bored."

* * *

[1] CI = **C** onfidential **I** nformer.

[2] **L** aw **E** nforcement **O** fficer.

[3] **C** ity **U** niversity of **Z** ootopia


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Next Steps

Tuesday Morning, Nick Wilde's Apartment

Wilde reached over, grabbed his alarm clock, and tossed it as hard as he could at the wall; it shattered in a soul satisfying explosion of electronic parts and plastic. He'd need to pick up a new clock on the way back from his shift – this was only, what, the fifth clock he'd demolished in the last year? He was getting better – this one had lasted at least three months.

He checked his smartphone – it read 0532 hours. The darn clock had been two minutes slow – obviously he needed a new one. He thumbed off the phone's alarm – set for 0540 hours, in case he wasn't up "on time" from the regular clock. He rolled out of bed and began his stretches; he couldn't ignore them, or he'd never pass the final physical on Friday and get cleared for regular duty. "Just in time to get a new partner – granted, it will only be until Carrots gets better. But still…" he muttered to himself. _A clear sign that I'm close to losing it, when my internal monologues start coming out of my mouth._

 _But I can't spend all morning bitching – got to get dressed and off to the station._ He took a deep breath, and then sniffed his ventral fur and his paw and foot pads. _No – shower first, or I'm going to be given a_ _ **wide**_ _berth by everyone._

#

It only took Nick twenty minutes to shower and dry off in the fur blower. _It cost a pretty penny, but that fur dryer is a life saver when it comes to getting out in the morning,_ he thought, as he brushed his fur into acceptability. He spent another five minutes admiring himself in the mirror, before turning to his closet and donning his uniform. He had a newly dry cleaned uniform – yesterday's uniform had been on its fourth day, so would need to go in for cleaning today. _I'll drop it off on the way in, and pick it up on the way home – along with a new alarm clock_.

He checked the final image in the mirror, and took out his one small bottle of cologne. _Today, I want to smell perfect_. He'd also have to stop by the hospital during his lunch break – it would be a good morale booster for Delgato and Carrots. He'd have to bring something for both of them to eat or drink – catnip tea for Delgato, another smoothie for Carrots.

He checked his phone; it was 0603 hours – he made a few hurried final preparations and set out for ZPD HQ at a jog.

Tuesday Morning, ZPD Bullpen

When Bogo strode into the bullpen, it was much quieter than usual. The Cape buffalo took his place at the front of the room and, instead of starting in to assignments, stared out at the assembled officers. "As you know, Officer Reynolds was killed in the line of duty yesterday. His funeral will be this Saturday; I expect everyone here to attend. The black fabric strips here at the front of the room are to be worn across your badges today and until Reynolds has been buried." Bogo took a deep breath, and let it out with an audible 'whoosh' through his nostrils; two small clouds formed in the cold air of the bullpen.

"Francine, Fangmire, McHorn, Profaci – you will be four of the six pallbearers. The remaining two will be selected between today and Friday. Clawhauser will be collecting your contributions to the Policeman's Charity Ball; I expect everyone to give generously. This time, we lost a rookie – and there are two good officers in the hospital today, Delgato and Hopps."

Bogo took his reading classes out of his tunic pocket, snapped them open, and donned them before reading off the assignments for the day.

"Francine, Fangmire, follow leads in the Rainforest District – leads courtesy of Officer Wilde's work last week. Profaci – you'll be working with McHorn in Saharah Square, same assignment…"

Nick kept his eyes on Bogo, but his mind was elsewhere. He listened only enough to nod at the right moments as he waited for his own assignment to be handed out (as if it would be anything different from the last week).

"…Wilde, you'll be back working with the DA's office, but you'll have a bit more help while your partner, Hopps, recovers from her injuries: our second fox will be joining you. Wilde – you can start teaching her the ropes."

Nick kept his expression accepting and apparently alert. But he didn't pay attention to the Chief's last few words. He was still sitting, frozen, when the vixen's paw settled on his shoulder.

"Officer Wilde?" the vixen waited a long five count. "Officer Wilde?"

"Sorry," Nick said. "You're the new officer – but Buffalobutt didn't mention your name."

"I noticed – does the Chief hold some special dislike for females, or did I do something wrong? My name is Edda – Edda Fuchs. And, 'buffalobutt'?"

Nick stood and shook himself. "My private name for the chief – don't repeat it, please. And welcome to the ZPD, Fuchs. The name sounds German – is it?"

"Yes, my parents emigrated a few years before I was born – but they decided that they wanted a 'good German name' for their first daughter. Edda means 'vigorous battle maiden', in case you're curious."

Nick laughed. "I could hope, Fuchs, that you'd never need to prove the truth of your name's meaning – the Chief's 'be careful out there' is more than just a platitude. It's dangerous out there on the street."

"So I understand – you just lost an officer," the vixen said.

Nick suppressed a snarl, but his voice grew noticeably colder. "No, Fuchs, **_we_** lost an officer. I didn't know Reynolds, really, but he had the bad luck to be in a lousy situation – and I won't have the chance to really learn what he is … was … like. My partner is in the hospital as a consequence of the same incident that cost Reynolds his life. And I'm still on limited duty, thanks to a crazy person with a shotgun."

The vixen exposed her throat, and crouched down in a submissive posture. "Sorry – I'm just not used to being an officer. If you're going to be my training officer – even if it's only for a few weeks until your partner is back on duty – please correct me when I step out of line or make a mistake…" the whine in your voice was impossible to miss.

Nick took a deep breath. "Sorry, you hit a sensitive spot. I'll be taking a longer than usual lunch to visit with Delgato and my partner – they're both in the hospital – and will be staying late to make up for it. I think you should join me – it will be an educational experience."

"Yes, sir," the vixen whined, and she followed meekly behind him as he lead the way off to the DA's offices.

Noon Tuesday, CUZ Medical Facility, Patient Room 215

"Hey, Delgato – how's it going?" Nick called out as he swept into the hospital room, Officer Fuchs trailing in his wake.

"I'm surviving, Wilde. My ear hurts – no surprise – and they've been pumping me with antibiotics to deal with a minor infection. But there's no indication of a concussion, so I managed to miss that one."

"Brains too stiff to slosh around? Good! I brought something else though, that does slosh a little," Nick said, and after checking to make sure that no nurses were in line-of-sight, pulled a covered cup out of one of his two paper bags. "It's the mini-size, but this is one of those peach shakes you like so much from Berry-Berry."

"Did you add anything else?"

"Sorry – the sawbones said, 'no alcohol', so I didn't add any brandy. But when you get out, I'll stand you to a round at **_The Lion's Den_**."

Delgato chuckled. "Are we turning you into an obedient servant to order, now, Wilde?"

"Perish the thought! But the medico said that it might slow your recovery, or even cause 'serious harm'. So …" Nick shrugged, "I go with 'first, do no harm'."

Delgato's chuckle turned into a full belly laugh. "Yes, we wouldn't have our own 'bad boy' becoming a sterling citizen. And thanks – you're a good cop, and you should go and visit your partner before she starts tearing up the furniture."

"Is she becoming a problem? I'd have thought you'd be far enough away…"

"Her voice can carry quite some distance."

"But she's on the third floor…"

"And the nurses talk – she's been trying to con them into releasing her on her own recognizance," Delgato said. "From what they've been saying, you're having a definite effect on our 'little miss goody-two-feet'."

Nick shook his head. "I guess I just have that effect on people. Later, Delgato!" he said, as he wandered on, his temporary vixen partner close behind him.

1220 hours, Tuesday, CUZ Medical Facility, Patient Room 345

The lapine doe was draped over the sling, her lower body suspended over the bed, her head buried under the hospital pillow."

"I brought you a raspberry-strawberry-wheatgrass smoothie from J-Juice," Nick said, as grabbed a chair, spun it around, and seated himself next to the bed. "It's doubtless against hospital rules, but … I know from personal experience how terrible the food is in places like this. So … consider this a simple morale building exercise." He pulled the massive smoothie out of the concealing brown paper bag.

"Nick, thank you," Judy said. "But it's not the food that's really getting to me here – it's the boredom. I don't really feel all that bad, but … there's nothing to **_do_** _._ "

Nick chuckled. "Except get better. It takes time to recover from … wounds like yours. But you're looking good, Carrots."

"With this hospital gown open in back, I'm just thankful that all the 'naughty bits' are covered by the bandages," Judy said.

"You're well covered, Lieutenant Hopps," Officer Fuchs said.

"Pardon me, but who are you? I can't see anything but the bed covers right now," Judy said.

"Sorry – I'm Edda Fuchs." She paused for a moment. "The new recruit – I was loaned to Vice last week, but they brought me back to help your partner after … your difficulties."

"Nick, can you help me turn on to my side, so I can see a bit more?"

Nick chuckled, and managed to turn the lapine doe on her side. "Is that better?" he asked.

"Since you're no longer able to ogle my tail…"

"And a floofy, fluffy, cutesy…"

"The 'c' word, Nick – 'red light'," Judy said, scowling.

"I wasn't referring to you as a whole, just your little poofy tail…"

Officer Fuchs cleared her throat. "Would you two prefer to be alone?"

"No need, Fuchs," Judy said. "You don't mind if I use your given name, do you?"

"No, Lieutenant…"

Nick chuckled, and Judy scowled at the new recruit. "I would also like it if you'd call me Judy…"

"Thank you … Judy. 'Easier to retain the reins than to regain them once dropped'."

"That's not a German saying, is it?" Nick asked.

"It's Russian, Nick – I would have thought you knew that with all your contacts. Surely Koslov has used it in your presence at least once or twice," Judy said.

"Sorry – don't know everything, just everyone. When do they say that you're going to be released from durance vile?" Nick asked.

"With luck? I'll be out in a week and a half. So I'll have to forego 'movie night' this Friday – but I should be able to make it next week."

"I'll be back tomorrow – and I'll try to sneak another smoothie in for you. Now," he turned back to the rookie, "we should probably get back to work finding connections…"

"Lead on, Officer Wilde, lead on…"

Just After Day Shift, The Lion's Den

"Your spotting the possible connection with that florist shop was a good call," Nick said, and took a sip of his hard cider.

"It seemed obvious – but it was really your filter that narrowed the selection down to just three. What I don't understand is why the synthetic 'night howler' drug would be coming out of florist shops."

"My guess? It's because we would have immediately assumed that the synthetic drug had nothing to do with the old channel. **_Someone_** must have done a careful analysis of the 'night howlers' – and once the florists' contacts are checked for the requisite chemistry or biochemistry background…"

"We'll have a good idea who is responsible for this craziness," Fuchs said, and took a sip of her beer.

"All in all, a very good day. Better by far than yesterday…"

"Your partner seemed in a good mood."

Nick chuckled. "She was depressed compared to her usual ebullient self. Wait until she's back at work – you'll think that she's wired for sound. Come to think of it, why don't you join us for 'movie night' – Friday, next week?"

"If it isn't an intrusion, Officer Wilde…"

"No, it wouldn't be. And it's Nick, not 'Officer Wilde'."

"Thank you, Nick. I like the sound of that."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Back in the Saddle Again

Friday evening, After "Movie Night", Nick's Apartment

"Did you **_have_** to invite Officer Fuchs to our 'Friday Night Flicks'?" Judy asked from the far end of the couch.

"I didn't **_have_** to invite her – and her name, in case you hadn't noticed, is 'Edda' – but I thought that you'd appreciate the gesture," Nick said, trying to keep his expression totally innocent (at least in appearance).

Judy took a deep calming breath, folded her arms in front of her and shuffled over a few centimeters further away from the fox. "I thought that this was our private time together. But what was there for **_me_** to appreciate? The way she seemed to hang on your every word? The way she kept leaning her muzzle on your shoulder? The way…"

"The way that a very lonely vixen responded to a friendly hand in the midst of strangers," Nick interrupted.

"Friendly? You encouraged her in that behavior!"

"Would you pay attention for five minutes?"

"Why should I?"

"Because if we're going to have an argument, it would be nice if we were both acting on the basis of the facts."

"The **_facts_**?" The lapine doe continued to glare at the fox. "What facts?"

"Will you let me speak, and not interrupt?"

"If you start making sense. Officer Fuchs seems to be meeting your stated requirement for a beautiful vixen…"

"Yes – she notices me. And thank you. First, I have a question for you: where do you think Edda comes from? Where she grew up?"

"Where else? Foxtown – here in Zootopia."

"Nope. She's from Podunk. You know – that little town that's in a county even further from Zootopia than Bunnyburrow. She grew up in a farming family."

"You have **_got_** to be kidding, Piberius Wilde. A fox farming family? What were they farming?"

"Fruits, grain, and they had chickens and a fish pond. Edda could teach you a thing or two about fishing, by the way – she told me about how she spent her evenings laying out fish lines in the Stevens River – with the stinkiest cheese she could find as bait. Every morning, one of her chores was to pick up the catfish from the lines – that was their typical breakfast. She went to the same Ag college that you did, just a year after you did. But she **_always_** wanted to be a big city cop – 'to make the world a better place'. Sound familiar?"

"You're kidding," Judy said, starting to look sheepish.

"She tried for two years to get in to the Zootopia Police Academy before she got in. She spent the time studying forensics at a JC local to her family home. When she got in – well – if you think you were hazed, you should have gone through what she did."

"I was 'country-girl', 'fluff-but', and a lot of other nastier names…"

"Remember what I said about 'voop'? That was the **_nicest_** thing she was called. And the other female candidates gave her **_hell_**. She still managed to graduate third in her class – by being a tough vixen who worked her tail off. And what do you think happened to her on her first day on the force?"

"She didn't find herself on 'parking detail'," Judy snarled.

"No – she was transferred to Vice and made up to look like a prostitute – to entice 'Johns' to solicit sexual favors for pay, so that Vice could bust them," Nick snarled back.

"Well, she **_looks_** …"

"Stop!" Nick interrupted. "Think about your next words, if you want to sleep here tonight."

"What? I was just going to say…" Judy stopped, as the fox's words finally sank in.

"You do **_not_** want to judge a book by its cover. She's bright, she's hard working…"

"And she's both pretty and has a strong scent. And those are **_facts_** , Nicholas Piberius!"

"Yes, she is those things, too. But she's also alone in the big city for the first time, and she is homesick and lonely. I **_thought_** that you'd be able to extend a helping hand to her, too. "When I took her to the Lion's Den after work, I managed to get her to open up just a bit. You know what she told me?"

"No…"

"That she was looking forward to working in Zootopia, 'where predator and prey lived together and get along, even to singing Kumbaya together'."

Judy buried her face in her hands. "Please tell me that you didn't criticize her for saying that."

"No – I didn't give her the speech I gave you. No, 'woopsies'. After the way things worked out for you – I thought that maybe, just maybe, shooting the moon wasn't always that bad an idea."

"As in, 'a mammal's reach must exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for'?

"You're getting there. But if you think **_you_** had a tough time starting here, Lieutenant Judith Laverne Hopps…"

"What! How did you…"

Nick grinned – but his grin was anything but friendly. "Thank 'Officer Fuchs' for that one."

"What did miss tail-to-one-side-for-you do? Hack personnel records?"

Nick stared at Judy, his muzzle wrinkled up. "I will forget you said that. And no, Edda did not hack **_anything_**. She asked her father – who asked around. And it seems that someone knew someone else who lived not **_too_** far from Bunnyburrow. Did you know that Gideon Grey was also something of a gossip?"

"Oh, sweet cheese and crackers!"

"Now, are you going to retract that last statement?"

"Nick – I'm sorry, I spoke without thinking. You've been working these last two weeks, and I didn't get out of the hospital until today. And you've been working with … Edda … most of that time. And I didn't want to 'share' our time together with … her."

"I can assure you that **_I_** am not really interested in a sexual or romantic relationship with Edda – I'd like to be her friend. **_But I'd like you to be her friend too_**. She needs it – and she **_is_** a nice person."

"Nick – I can try. And I'll start by apologizing to her for my standoffishness tonight. But I'm going to ask her not to dig into my past – and to **_not_** spread around what **_my_** middle name is."

Nick chuckled. "Actually, it isn't that bad, as middle names go."

"Will **_you_** promise not to spread it around?"

Nick struck a brace and crossed his heart. "Cross my heart, sweetheart. Though I can't guarantee that I'll never use it when we're in private, 'Jude the Dude'."

Judy buried her face in her hands again. "Where did you hear that one?"

"Your sister told me – when she was nursing me back to health."

"I'll kill her. I will just plain **_kill_** her!"

"Don't go **_too_** hard on your sister, Carrots. But do you think you're over your mad, now?"

"Not just yet, Nick. But I'll deal with it. My rump still hurts a bit, though – so I'm going to be 'on top' tonight."

Nick rolled his eyes. It was clearly going to be a "fight and make up" night.

The Morning after the Night Before, Nick's Apartment

Nick dragged himself out of bed – with only a perfunctory growl at the "thief-of-blanket" rabbit, who was encased in a cocoon of blankets, top sheet and (this time) the bottom sheet as well. _I'm going to have to remake the bed. Again. Twice in just one week. There is no justice!_

Nick muttered to himself about the injustice of it all, all the way to the shower. He turned on the spray and stood under it until he was soaked through to the skin. The water was lukewarm, but the spray was intense. _The one good thing about getting up early is beating the other tenants to the limited high pressure water. The roof tank will be nearly dry in an hour – and the pressure here will drop off to near nothing. The disadvantage of living in a rent-controlled apartment is that there's no real incentive for the owners to upgrade amenities. The good side is that if I had an apartment this big that wasn't rent controlled, I'd be paying eight or ten times the rent._

Nick let out a bark of surprise as the cold air hit. "Come in or go out – but close the shower door in either case!"

"Hmmph! You're just hogging all the hot water!" Judy said, as she slid into the shower behind the fox. "Hand me the shower head – none of the spray is getting past you – you big lunk!"

"Great! The thief-of-blanket isn't satisfied with driving me out of my should-have-been-warm-bed. Oh, no! She has to steal my hot water, too!"

Judy slapped the fox at the base of his tail; Nick arched his back and let out a whoop of surprise before handing over the shower head. "Just be thankful that I had a more advanced head put in – or you'd have to wait your turn whenever you slept over."

"I'd have been up earlier if it hadn't been for a certain foxie who wanted … what did you call it? 'Sloppy…'"

"Let's not go there, Carrots, and say we did? You seemed perfectly happy with the idea of … how should I describe it? 'Repeat business'?"

Judy laughed, and began soaping up the fur on the fox's back. "Guilty as charged. But I didn't hear any objections from you!"

"I was too tired to say anything at that point."

"Except to call out 'Damnit, I've lost count!' sometime around 1 am, Nickie…"

"Well, I had! Ouch!" the fox arched his back as the rabbit smacked his rump with the back of the scrub brush. "That hurt!"

"You were using your 'brush' for something other than showing off your emotion just then, foxie boy! I thought we agreed to leave that for the bedroom."

"I never agreed not to show affection – except in public, when we're in uniform. And I wasn't trying to do anything crude…"

"Well, 'it's a story, anyway'. But where that tail of yours was rubbing is still a little bit sore after last night."

"I didn't touch the wound!"

"That is **_not_** what you were trying to rub with your brush, and you **_know_** it!"

Nick took a deep breath, and shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say – even with my back to you, I can't get you out of my mind – and you're overwhelming in this steamy environment. A steamy environment, I would point out to you, Carrots, that you cannot help but make even steamier."

Judy reached around and began soaping up the fox's ventral fur. "You can turn around, foxie, or I can continue this way – but I'll practically have to climb on your rump to reach everything…"

Nick turned around and settled down onto his haunches. "Ok, there – everything from my waist up is within easy reach. Just go easy on the sensitive spots, ok? After last night…"

"Did poor little foxie get worn down?"

Nick shook his head. "Not the way you're implying. But … let's just say that some things are a little sensitive, ok?"

"Should I kiss it and make it better?" Judy asked, and smirked.

Nick leaned back. "You're incorrigible, bun-bun."

"Payback is a bunny-doe, in case you hadn't learned that lesson yet…" Judy said, striking a pose and trying to look like the 'vamp'.

Nick couldn't help laughing … until his laughs turned to gasps and moans as the bunny proceeded to "attack". "Serves you right for laughing," she said, before neither mammal was interested in talking.

Saturday, Mid-Day, Nick's Apartment

"Nick – what is that mess you're making?"

"I call it 'glop'. It's quite nutritious."

"Ok – I can see that there are plenty of veggies – not what I'd expect you to eat. But that stuff?" Judy pointed at the ground meat. "Dare I ask?"

"It's ground up turkey. I brown the meat, then drain it and put it in the bowl over here. Then it's the tomatoes…"

"Those are fruits, not vegetables, Nick…"

"I don't care – they taste good."

Judy rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

"Then braise the Brussel sprouts, and the sliced up baby artichokes. When those are done, I sauté the mushrooms – three kinds of mushrooms."

"You didn't pick those yourself, did you? There are a lot of poisonous…"

"I bought them in the farmer's market, Wednesday."

"A farmer's market, here? In Foxtown? You must be joking!"

"Nope – seems someone decided it would be a good idea to get fresh produce to 'us voops'."

Judy winced when Nick used the 'v' word. "I thought you didn't like that term."

"I don't – but … just as a bunny can call another bunny cute, a fox can call himself - or another fox – a 'voop'. Intonation is important, though. I can express love, or undying enmity or both at the same time, just by tone of voice and undertone."

"Undertone?"

"How I growl – or snarl. When I growled at you last night…"

"I thought that was an expression of almost-uncontrolled passion!"

'It was, Carrots. But I could just as easily have scared you half to death with my growl."

"Humph! Not now you couldn't!"

Nick laughed. "Because I don't really feel like it. But remember when I said just a few words to you – a bit over a year ago?"

"Wha?"

"Oh, there's a **_them_** , now?" Nick said, his muzzle wrinkled up in a snarl and his pupils narrowing down to pinpoints focused on the lapine doe in a predator-on-prey glare his claws sliding out of their sheaths.

Judy jumped back nearly two meters, one held palm out. Nick shook himself, took a deep breath, and smirked at the bunny. "Gotcha! It's all in tone-of-voice and undertone."

Judy took a deep, calming breath. "Be still, my beating heart! That was just an act … wasn't it?"

"It wasn't then – it was just now. But I was making the point that depending on tone and intonation, I can change the perception from 'this is love and passion' to 'this is danger incarnate'. It's all a matter of delivery."

"And I am reminded that you managed to act your way out of situations that would have put 'paid' to any other mammal."

"Hardly 'any other mammal'. Finnick can talk his way out of just about any situation, too. And if he can't talk his way out – with that voice of **_his_** – he's always got a baseball bat or similar object near at hand as an equalizer."

"As in 'what do you call a fennec with a four foot club. Sir?'"

"Got it, Carrots. But back to my 'glop' – with the tomatoes, braised vegetables, sliced green beans, and mushrooms in, I add the frozen stir fry mix from the super market and the spaghetti sauce. When everything is bubbling away nicely, and the flavors have all had a chance to blend, I add the ground turkey that I browned earlier. This 'glop' is enough to feed me for the better part of a week. For desert, I've got peaches, pippin apples, blueberries and seedless green grapes."

"You said that you went to a Farmer's Market … in Foxtown. When did this start up?"

"Oh, seems like a little farming co-op decided they wanted a reason to come up to the big city to visit … and make a little profit on the side. The Fuchs family and several other fox families in Podunk got together, and … presto! Fresh vegetables and fruit in the heart of Foxtown every Wednesday."

"You know, Nick, if you left out the ground turkey, that 'glop' of yours would be something that I wouldn't mind eating. I don't suppose that you could set aside a bit of it…"

"I had planned on it – that's why there are two storage containers on the counter, here. One for me – with meat – and one for my vegetarian partner."

"That's so sweet of you, Nick. I haven't had a chance to restock my small larder…"

"Ten or so days in the hospital will do that," Nick chuckled. "I can just imagine what your little produce drawer must have been like…"

"There were vegetables that were trying to evolve into higher forms of life," Judy said, her nose wrinkling as she remembered the smell that had greeted her when she'd open the mini-fridge the day before. "Anything on your plan for this afternoon – after you've finished making your dinners for the week, that is?"

"I was thinking we might go to the park, and just watch the clouds float by. Alone, together."

"You know you're an incredible romantic at heart?"

"Do I know that? Yes, yes I do…" Nick said, in a credible imitation of Judy's voice.

"Incorrigible – utterly incorrigible!" Judy muttered, as she walked out of the kitchenette into the living room, and stretched out and flopped face down on the couch.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Weekend Diversions…

Afternoon in the Park

"I think that one looks like a dragon," Judy said, pointing skyward.

"And the little puffy white cloud over there," Nick pointed, "is the smoke coming out of his mouth?"

"How do you know that it's a male dragon?"

"Why else would he be belching fire?" Nick punctuated his comment with a thunderous burp.

Judy propped herself up on one elbow and glared at the fox. "I thought that you were too mature for such behavior!"

"Carrots, I have news for you – no male is **_ever_** too mature for such behavior. That's why the dragon up there would have to be male," he said, still looking up at the clouds and grinning insanely.

Judy shook her head. This was clearly one of those times when Nick was going to be silly. The only thing that could be said for such times was that they were better than the times when he insisted on being cynical and morose. "Do you have any more of those cherries?"

Nick sat up, and fumbled around in the makeshift picnic basket. "Nope. All gone. We have a single pickled turnip, perhaps a spoonful of hummus, and … two seedless green grapes. Will the grapes do?"

"Nothing left?" Judy asked, as she poked her nose into the basket. "Nothing left."

"There are two grapes that you're welcome to," Nick said, as he popped the pickled turnip into his mouth. Two quick bites and the turnip disappeared. "And if your fingers are clean, you can scoop up what's left of the hummus and lick it off."

"Nick…"

"Don't look at me, Carrots! You ate almost all of the cherries; you ate both pippin apples, and three quarters of the three bean salad. I don't know where you manage to put everything, unless your legs are hollow…"

"I work it off, Nicholas Piberius!"

"Oh, I worked a fair amount off too…"

"Nick! Don't be crude!"

"I didn't say anything crude – just pointed out that I expended some energy myself last…"

"Stop. There. Not. One. More. Word!"

Nick turned skyward, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He took a deep breath, then coughed and dug into his pocket, retrieving a small foil wrapped packet.

"Nick, what are you…"

He tore the packet open, removed the two small filter plates, and inserted one in each nostril. The filters properly seated, Nick let out his breath with an audible "whoosh" and settled back onto the grass.

"Just what was that about, Nick?" Judy asked.

"Just caught the scent of a vixen…"

"Are you that afraid of…"

"I don't want distractions," Nick interrupted. "And I **_really_** don't need the kind of distraction that **_that_** scent could present."

"I thought you said something about preferring monogamous relationships."

"I did, Judy. But that doesn't mean that I want to push my luck when arguing with instinctual responses. Better safe than sorry."

"Just where is this suspect vixen, Nick?"

The "suspect vixen", Edda Fuchs, jogged up at this point, and stopped on the path next to the pair. "Afternoon, folks!" she called out, as she continued to jog in place.

Nick pointed to Edda. "I think it should be obvious, Carrots." He turned on his side to face the vixen. "Afternoon, Edda. What brings you to the park?"

"Getting in some extra P-T – your suggestion, remember?" Edda said.

Judy sat up and looked curiously at the male fox. "Nick? You were suggesting more exercise … for someone else?!"

"Well, jogging is good exercise…and we could **_all_** use a bit more of it, couldn't we?" Nick said.

"How about the two of you joining me tomorrow for a run from here to the river and back? It would get the blood pumping and we could have brunch together."

"What about Church?" Judy asked.

"If we get up and start our run by 0800 hours," Edda said, "we could be done with the run by 1000 hours, and after showers – we'd be out by 1020 – there'd be ample time for morning services. Then we could all have a late lunch together. How about that, L-T?" Edda's grin was wide enough that it threatened to meet in the back and cause the top of her head to fall off.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Nick said, while Judy was fighting to keep a scowl off her face. "Besides, weren't you trying to get me to exercise more, L-T?"

"I told you **_not_** to call me that, Nicholas Piberius!" Judy said.

"Your middle name is 'Piberius'?" Edda asked.

"Jogging, you?" Judy asked, looking at Nick.

Nicholas glanced from rabbit to fox, and back to rabbit, like a spectator in a mad tennis match. "Yes to both of you. How about meeting at the station at 0730 and ending there at 1000, Edda – then we could use the showers in the Precinct."

"Sounds good – but I have to finish my run today – I'll give you a call to remind you tomorrow morning. 0630 ok?"

"Done, Edda. And don't let us prevent you from finishing your P-T. Be seeing you…" Nick called out to the now retreating vixen. He kept looking at Edda's retreating form for a long five count, before a nudge in the ribs brought his attention back to the bunny next to him.

"Ahem! Just what was all that about, Mister Nicholas Piberius Wilde?" Judy asked.

Nick smirked. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that your amethyst eyes were turning green. You're jealous of Edda?"

"The way you were looking at her just now, what do you expect?"

"There's a difference between looking and doing, Carrots. I can look at **_lots_** of vixens – and I can think about them, too. It's called freedom of thought. We don't punish thoughts, only actions. Otherwise, Vice would crack down on **_all_** of those 'Gentlemen's Clubs'. And if thoughts were punishable, I'll wager that you'd be guilty of something on the order of a felony yourself."

"That. Is. Not. True!"

"Oh? If looks could kill, I'd be calling in an ADW[1] right now for the look you gave the western end of an East-bound Edda, Carrots."

It was Judy's turn to take a deep, calming breath. "Ok. I will try and control my emotions a bit better. But **_must_** you have a wandering eye?"

Nick grinned. "It's not a 'wandering eye' – it's an 'eagle eye', ever observant, ever watching. Or, in other words, its 'situational awareness', or have you forgotten old Polarbutt's comment?"

Judy sighed. "'You're not paying attention to what's in front of you, fluff-butt, let alone what's behind you! Again! You! Are! Dead! Country-bumpkin!' It's a little hard to forget. Did she ride you about it, too?"

"Me and just about everyone else in my class. But she only caught me once. Most everyone else was caught three or four times. How many times did she get you?"

"Three times. But everyone else in my class fell into her situational awareness traps at least six times. How did you – and everyone else – in your class get through so easily? Was she letting up on you?"

"No – we just grew eyes in the back of our heads. That and keeping our eyes, and our heads, moving all the time. We helped each other…"

"You mean, **_you_** helped your classmates?"

"Well, we were a team – and some of us were better at spotting things than others …"

Judy shook her head, then looked up at the white, puffy clouds overhead for several seconds to calm her. "Incorrigible, utterly incorrigible…"

"But you love me in no small part because of it, Carrots."

Saturday Evening, Nick's Apartment

"Nick, your 'glop' was delicious. Thank you – you really didn't have to do this."

"Carrots, I understand completely. But sometimes it makes me happy just to do things for you. Especially when I can understand your situation completely."

"?"

"I was shot too – just not in as … embarrassing … a location," Nick said, and leered at the wounded portion of the bunny's anatomy.

Judy twitched her tail. "See something you want?"

Nick changed focus from the twitching tail to the bunny's eyes. "Yes – and it's not **_just_** your … ah … well … you know …"

Judy giggled. "If you **_didn't_** want to 'do it with me' I'd be a good deal more upset, Nick. And I'll admit that feeding me tasty tidbits doesn't hurt your chances of a 'bunny attack' later," Judy said, before strutting across the living room, and then draping herself along the couch.

Nick couldn't help it, the vamping bunny was hilarious, and he burst out laughing.

"Glad you can appreciate the display, Nick. But I'm getting lonely on the couch…"

"Asserting territorial imperatives, Carrots?"

"Well … you could call it that. Or perhaps 'scent marking my property'."

"Oh," Nick said, as he joined the bunny on the couch. "I'm your 'property', now?"

"You know what I mean, Nick. Now, kiss me – on the lips, not there…"

"Your wish is my command, Carrots."

6 AM Sunday, Nick's Apartment

Any problem that can be resolved will be resolved. This time, all it took was an additional set of bottom sheet, top sheet, and blanket. Nick looked over at the cocooned form of the bunny and chuckled. He still had a blanket and sheets of his own. Of course, he'd need to do twice as much laundry in the evening, but it would be worth it not to end up sleeping directly on the mattress without any blankets or sheets.

And with the fluff ball still sawing logs, he'd get first call on the shower. Nick snuck out of the room and into the shower without a sound.

He leaned forward and rested he head against the cool tile, letting the spray from the shower sluice down his back. He was able to enjoy this private time for perhaps a full minute before the shower door opened again.

"Should always conserve resources," Judy said, hugging the fox.

"Right – shower with a friend. Can I wash my private parts myself?"

"Sweet cheese and crackers! Do you expect me to do it?"

"I was hoping that I'd be allowed to do it myself, this time," Nick said.

"If you're going to be like that, I just might let you do it all the time…"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, fluff-butt."

"Fluff butt!?" Judy cried, and swatted the fox's rump, then moved closer to massage the affected region.

Nick just sighed. "Territorial imperative again? We need to be finished by 0630 – Edda will be calling to remind us then."

"Don't remind me – I'd just as soon not."

"Not get me out of the apartment for P-T? For shame, Carrots! Giving up this soon on your big project?"

"To get you to exercise more? Don't tempt me, sly foxie," Judy said. "And you'd better 'lead the pack'."

"Or what?"

"You. Do. Not. Want. To. Know. If I catch you sniffing at…"

"Don't go there, Carrots. Red light!"

"Sweet cheese and crackers – you are being difficult!"

"Ever and always, fluffy. Ever and always."

1000 hours, Precinct 1 Station Showers

Judy stood under the shower, letting the water sluice away all her "bad thoughts". It was so much easier when she'd had a good run. And to be honest, Officer Fuchs had been friendly and a good running partner. Nick hadn't hugged the vixen's rear, either – he'd even set the pace, keeping at least five meters ahead of Fuchs throughout. Judy **_could_** have closed, but … watching the fox's tail and rump move was … fun. Even if she did have to share it with the vixen.

She shook her head, splattering water all around. She shouldn't be so hard on Fuchs – she was only trying to be friendly. And she was so lonely, away from her family in Podunk. That was funny – she'd thought that Fuchs had to be from Foxtown, another sharp, sly vixen, out to get whatever she could. Now? It seemed as though she was just another lonely country girl, lost in the big city.

Judy turned off the shower, and shook her entire body. It felt better to dry this way than the forced air blowers – the fans in the precinct seemed to have only two speeds: too slow and too fast. A good shake and a towel made for best preparation for the lower speed. At high speed, she knew she'd practically be blown away.

Judy stepped out of the shower, and the one small-mammal blower was already occupied by Officer Fuchs. She'd wrapped a towel around her waist, and was drying her ventral fur and the fur on her head and shoulders. Judy waited, careful to control her tendency to thump her foot on the tiles in her impatience.

"Any time that you two slowpokes are ready," Nick called out through the closed door to the female's locker room.

"I'll be ready in a sec, Nick – your partner will be out soon. But I'm hogging the one working blower right now," Fuchs called back. She spent perhaps another thirty seconds under the blower before stepping out. "All yours, Judy," she said, as she skipped over to her locker, and began changing into her civvies.

"Thanks," Judy called back, and stood under the blower to try and finish off quickly. The vixen would be dressed and waiting with Nick before she was done – there was no helping that. She **_shouldn't_** be jealous – after all, Nick was sleeping with her, not the vixen. He never even **_smelled_** of the vixen, so why was she so nervous about the situation?

#

When Judy skipped out of the locker room, Nick and Officer Fuchs were facing each other, holding hands and gazing deep into each other's eyes. Nick noticed her and turned to face her first, perhaps a second before Officer Fuchs reacted.

"Last out, Carrots. We were beginning to wonder what happened…"

"That's not true, Nick – you know I grabbed the blower first, and Judy **_couldn't_** dry off until I was already finished…"

"Now we're all ready," Judy said, "so let's get moving – it wouldn't do to be late for morning services. I hope you'll forgive me, Edda, for dragging you to an all-lagomorph congregation…"

"Beg to differ, Carrots," Nick interrupted. "It's hardly 'all-lagomorph' if there are two vulpines present. Based on Pastor Joseph's response to me, I rather doubt that he'll be upset by another 'seeker'. Isn't that the whole idea, to be all-inclusive?"

Officer Fuchs looked up at the ceiling and rolled her eyes, then grinned at Judy and shrugged, as if to express the idea, "what can we do with this guy?"

"Overdone is underwhelming, Nick," Judy said, took her running partner's arms, and lead them off.

Noon, Outside Hopps' Favorite Church

"There really are only five hundred mammals in the world," Nick said, as they left the church.

"Is it that surprising that my church's pastor would know Pastor Joseph? They're both from Podunk, after all…" Edda said.

"And Podunk is a small town, where everyone knows everyone," Judy added.

"Just like Bunnyburrow, I'm sure," Nick said. "And 'Woopsie,' the rest of the country really **_is_** different from neighborhoods in Zootopia."

"In Zootopia, you can run into old friends who you've just met," Edda said.

Nick slipped back a pace, and shook his head. _Carrots may notice, but I doubt that Edda will spot it. She hasn't yet had to grow eyes in the back of her head, like my little prey friend, Carrots has. And she has a lot to learn – though, perhaps, I don't want to knock that Kumbaya spirit out of her. Not considering what we may have to ask of her, later._ "Perhaps you'd join us for dinner, Edda?"

Judy glanced back at Nick, a curious expression on her face.

"I'd love to, but isn't it hard to prepare something that both predator and prey can enjoy?" Edda asked.

"Not if I'm doing the cooking," Nick replied, grinning.

* * *

[1] **A** ssault with a **D** eadly **W** eapon. Assumed to be a felony in Zootopia (as it is in the Author's city of residence).


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Truth and Consequences

Late Sunday Evening, Nick's Apartment

Judy stretched out on the couch. "Ok, Nick, I know you were raised on concrete, and don't feel the same as I do about things, but just what were you up to today? Why did you invite Officer Fuchs to dinner with us?"

Nick sighed. "It's called laying groundwork, Carrots. There are certain things we're going to have to work out."

"Oh? Just what did you have in mind? If I don't know what you're up to, then I have a **_real_** hard time not making assumptions – assumptions that can be wrong – about what your intentions are."

"Simple. Just what do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want – it's a simple question. The answer may not be all that simple, but that's why I have to ask it."

Judy straightened up on the couch. "Now you're **_really_** not making any sense."

"What do you want?"

"You mean right now? Right now, I'd like to go into the bedroom and get some pleasurable exercise and make you scream for mercy!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Ok, that's a start, at least. But what do you really **_want_**?"

"Asked and answered, Mister Wilde. And I could ask you the same question? Don't you want to mess up the sheets again?"

"You're a lot of fun, Carrots, but…"

"Waitaminute! If this is going to turn into 'let's just be friends' discussion, I'm going to throw something!" Judy interrupted, a hurt tone in her voice. Nick settled down on the couch next to the lapine doe, and kissed her on the forehead, then on her nose, and then on the lips. "Ok, so you're not just pushing me out, but … why?"

"I'm thinking about the future – something that you should be doing, too. Ok, let's rephrase my question just a bit: 'what do you want out of life?'"

Judy chuckled, and relaxed. "I don't know why you're suddenly turning back to your cynical mode – but the answer to **_that_** question is simple. I want to be the best officer that I can in the ZPD. Heck, someday I'd like to have Bogo's job."

"Ok, that's your career goal. But is that **_all_** you want out of life? Think of yourself at age … oh … fifty or so, you're the Chief of ZPD. Is that **_all_** you want? If you have that, and nothing else, will you still be happy?"

Judy laughed. "Nick, you don't have to worry about me dumping you – I'm not like those vixens who dropped you or whom you dropped. Of **_course_** , I want to be in a relationship with you."

"Do you see …" Nick paused, and took a deep breath. "Do you ever want to be …" he stopped again, and licked his lips.

"Sounds like? Am I supposed to guess the next few words?" Judy giggled.

Nick took one more deep cleansing breath. "Do you see yourself ever marrying?"

"Oh. I hadn't really thought about it that much. So many things have been happening lately – you were shot, and with what you said when you thought you were dying…"

"I wanted to get it out – I didn't want to leave without clarifying matters," Nick interrupted. "Do your future plans include marriage?"

"Well, eventually, sure. Are you making a proposal? Other than a lewd and lascivious one?"

"I'm discussing a rather serious matter, Judy. I really need to know if you plan on ever getting married."

"Are you worried that I'd reject you? Nick, you don't need to worry about that. I think that what we've been doing of late is a rather clear indication that I'm not about to throw you out on your sometimes-irritating-posterior."

"You still haven't answered my question. Do you plan on marrying at any time in the future?"

"Sometimes, you can be so thick skulled, Nick. Yes, I plan on marrying someday."

"Do you want to have kits?"

"Of course, I do. I'd love to have a family as big as the one I grew up in. I'll admit, we'd have to get a place somewhere in the suburbs – we'd never be able to afford a house in the City."

"Ok. Now, I'd like to have kits myself – but we're separate species." Nick took another deep breath. "If we're going to have kits, then we only have three choices: we each marry within our own species, we adopt, or … we use a sperm donor for you, and a surrogate for me."

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'. We have to think about these things. And now is the time to start thinking about what we want to **_do_** about them."

"I hadn't thought about … how … I guess I'd just assumed we'd solve that problem when we got to it," Judy said. "I don't **_know_** any bucks that I'd want to father my kits – I knew enough bunny bucks who were jerks back in Bunnyburrow that I'd never approach any of them."

"Do you know anyone that well in your church congregation?"

"Oh, that would make a **_real_** good introduction, now wouldn't it? 'Hi, my name is Judy, I'd like you to father my kits – but I don't want to marry you, I just want your genes'. The buck would make the sign of the cross and run straight to Pastor Joseph, and five minutes after that, I'd have **_him_** asking all sorts of embarrassing questions."

"Like, why you are involved in an interspecies relationship?"

Judy snorted. "I think he's already aware that there's **_something_** going on between us, though with Officer Fuchs…"

"Her name is Edda, Hopps!" Nick interrupted.

"With Edda hanging on your arm in church today, he may be just a bit confused. If he thought I was just dragging a fellow LEO to church, who then brought his 'friend', well … interspecies friendships aren't a problem."

"But sexual relationships between different species are," Nick said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, let's just say that it's not the most favored behavior possible. 'Hate the sin, love the sinner' is pretty much the rule."

"So … we're not an abomination, though our behavior is abominable," Nick said, glaring at the bunny.

"It isn't to me, Nick. And please, don't look at me like that?"

Nick took a deep breath, and broke off the predator-on-prey glare. "Sorry, I don't mean to get angry with you – but I'm … we're … getting sidetracked. Do you know if there are any … sperm banks … that you might be able to use?"

"Let me check," she said, and ran a quick search from her phone. "There's one fertility clinic listed. They claim to be covered by our employee insurance, and … they do list rabbits as one of the species that they can handle. Hmmm….yes! They do have sperm donors – at least, they pay bucks for sperm donations."

"So…potentially one problem resolved."

Judy looked up at the fox. "And you're thinking of convincing Officer … no, Edda … to be a … what would we call it? A 'surrogate' for me? To bear your kit?"

"Well … we'll have to find someone."

"Will, or would?"

"Yes," Nick let out a deep heartfelt sigh. "Will, assuming that you're willing to go along with this crazy idea?"

"Which one?"

"Marriage?"

"Is that a proposal?"

"If we can work out all the problems, well, maybe."

"It is, or it isn't, foxie. And I'm **_really_** not going to let you off the hook on this question. Do you want me?"

"Wrong question, Carrots."

"Fine – do you want me as your lawfully wedded wife, to honor, cherish, and obey?"

"How about two out of three?" Nick asked.

"That was four."

"You know what I meant, Carrots."

"That is the most un-romantic proposal that I have ever heard of, Nick. If I weren't already hot for your body, I'd leave you high and dry waiting for my answer – and I'd sleep at my apartment tonight."

"But, you being a hot-blooded bunny are going to sleep here tonight. So, what **_is_** your answer?"

"Do I want to marry you? Yes, yes I do. Do you want to marry me?" Judy asked.

"Now that I have my head turned in the right direction, I would say so, yes," Nick said, and took a deep breath. "But we still have to work out some few 'little' details."

"Like telling our folks, yeah, I can see that."

"Just your folks, Carrots. My father died of a heart attack over twenty-five years ago, and my mother died of cancer eight years ago. I was an only child, and I don't know of any aunts or uncles – I rather lost touch with my mom after I started my last career. But I **_really_** want to have a kit – it doesn't matter to me which it is, tod or vixen. I just want someone I can give a better start than I had…"

"You don't set the bar high, do you?" Judy shook her head. I don't think we're going to solve the problems tonight – besides, I need a bit of 'fun time' before I have to go back to work, tomorrow." Judy stood up, took the fox's paws in hers, and led him back into his bedroom.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Monday is the root of all evil

0550 hours, Monday, Nick's Apartment

Nick groaned and rolled out of bed. The cocoon had disgorged a butterfly twenty minutes earlier, and he could hear the fur dryer blasting away already. "There is no justification for Mondays," he muttered, He stretched, noting the snaps and cracks of muscles and bones sliding back into "proper" positions. He scratched at his hip, where something had matted his fur, and then staggered towards the bathroom.

An all too cheery rabbit came bouncing out of the bathroom, just as he tried to pull himself in to the somewhat cramped space. The room was filled with hot air and mist; the mirror was as fogged as Nick's head felt. He hawked and spat into the sink; his lungs felt like they were filled with cotton. He stumbled into the shower, and turned the water on – full cold.

His scream brought Judy to the bathroom door in a heartbeat. "Are you ok, Nick? What happened?"

Nick took a deep breath, shook himself and soaked under the ice-cold spray. "Just waking up, Carrots."

"Explain!"

"Cold shower," he replied, and held his head directly under the shower head. After the initial shock, the frigid water even felt good on the back of his neck. He ignored the pounding on the bathroom door for at least a minute; then he stepped out of the shower and into the warm hurricane of the fur dryer before he unlocked the door.

The bunny burst through the door, and stopped when the remnants of the hot air blast hit her. "You … forget it … I'll start your catnip tea while you're drying off," she said to the fox's back, before stepping back out of the bathroom.

#

Nick cupped the mug in both paws and lapped up the hot-but-not-too-hot catnip tea as fast as he could manage without poaching his tongue.

"Are you ready to make the world a better place?" Judy asked, already in a crisp uniform with a newly shined badge.

Nick turned to look at the "too chipper for this or any other hour on a Monday" rabbit. "Consider that I have given you the bilabial fricative, Carrots. It's a Monday. I hope to survive until Friday."

"Come on, Nick! It's the start of a new week! We have to get to the station house!" Judy put her arm around Nick's and began dragging him towards the door. Nick yawned, groaned, and then dreamily fell into line, following the bunny tail before him, wishing that he didn't have to be at work before nine.

0655 hours, Monday, Precinct 1 Bullpen

Judy scrambled up onto the chair, and Nick jumped up to land beside her. He yawned, his jaw opening up until it seemed as though there was nothing but an open mouth set atop a furry foxy neck. "Too blessed early this morning," Nick said.

"If you weren't so interested in working out late into the night…" Judy began to say.

"Red light," Nick said, sotto voce.

Judy grinned up at the fox, an apparently innocent expression glued to her face.

"Devil's eyes," Nick said, in an even softer whisper. "How you can be so cheery…"

"Greater stamina, as a result of more exercise," Judy whispered back. "You should try it."

Nick shook his head from side to side, and let out a long, low, sigh.

Another vulpine figure popped up in the chair next to theirs; Officer Edda Fuchs nodded to Nick in greeting, and whispered a hasty, "good morning, Judy" to the rabbit just as the door opened and Chief Bogo strode into the room.

"Buffalobutt rides again," Nick whispered; Judy glared at him, Edda smiled and managed to refrain from giggling, as everyone present jumped to their feet in response to the called to "attention".

"Everyone, sit and quiet down!" Bogo called out, as he pulled out his reading glasses and snuggled up to the lectern. "Three major items on today's docket. First, the synthetic night howler case is closed," Bogo waved one massive paw to silence the abrupt murmurs and barely heard curses. "We are handing over the case – and all of your case notes – to the MBI[1]. Hopps – there's an MBI field agent waiting outside – bring her in."

Judy hopped down, and bounced to the door. Nick stared at Bogo, momentarily at a loss for words. _Two weeks I've slaved away at making sense of this nonsense, and the MBI just steps in and takes it away? And the MBI? The Bureau shouldn't be sticking its wet-and-cold into local affairs – it's_ _ **our**_ _jurisdiction, not Federal, blast it all!_ Despite the angry thoughts running through his head, Nick kept his face frozen into an expression of curiosity and submission. The MBI agent strode in to the bullpen, Judy trailing behind her, and stood behind and to Bogo's left as Judy returned to her seat. The wolf bitch assumed a "parade rest" position, her attention straight ahead.

"This is Senior Field Agent Ashling Skully[2] of the MBI," Bogo said. "She will heading the investigation for the Bureau, and **_will receive our complete cooperation_** **.** That means you, Wilde!"

Nick assumed a "who, me?" expression, as if being uncooperative was the last thing on his mind; Judy used an elbow just under her partner's ribcage to force a change of expression. The rabbit's position, her head barely poking up above the table allowed easy concealment of her movement.

"Carrots, leave off with the elbow, please?" Nick whispered to his partner.

"In the meantime," Bogo said, "Fangmire, and Delgato – there's a 'salesman' selling counterfeit purses and high value clothing in and around the Palms Hotel and Casino. Francine and Profaci – there's another pair of street racers on the loose in the Rainforest district. Find them and shut them down…" Bogo droned on, handing out folders and Nick, Judy, and Fuchs waited for their assignments.

Nick had begun to fidget as the last patrolman other than the trio had been assigned and had moved off to their duties.

"Finally, we get to our 'remainders'. Wilde – you will be working liaison with Senior Field Agent Skully. Hopps – you're to serve as Fuchs' training officer, and the two of you are to provide such assistance as Agent Skully requests through Wilde. You are – all three of you – to **_cooperate_** with the MBI investigation. Is. That. Clear?"

"Crystal," the trio chorused. "Buffalobutt," Nick whispered, barely loud enough Hopps and Fuchs to hear.

Code 7

Judy was stuffing a mixture of fennel leaves and chopped green bell pepper into her mouth when Edda Fuchs joined her and the other fox officer, Nick Wilde at the table.

"I love this place!" Edda said.

"Why? It's mostly salads!" Nick exclaimed.

"But it's more than just greens – they have the best blueberries and strawberries. They even have some peaches!" Edda said.

Judy grinned. "Glad to see not **_everyone_** has to stuff fried bugs into their mouth."

Edda made a face, and then looked at Nick. "You mean you actually **_like_** fried insects?"

"Yes – so sue me! What is with you two? Ganging up on the one poor male glued to your collective hips? It's bad enough that the MBI has to take over **_my_** case…"

" ** _Your_** case, foxie?" Judy asked. "I thought it was a ZPD case…"

"You know what I meant, Carrots!" Nick replied.

Edda smirked, wolfed down a peach in two bites, spitting the pit out a moment later.

"Eww…how could you, Fuchs!" Judy said.

Edda's face split into a wide grin of the kind that only foxes and some other canids could manage. "You should have seen me in the pie eating contest at the annual County Faire. I've got a string of green ribbons going back ten years."

Judy's eyes widened to large saucer size. "You're joking, right?"

"Ok, folks. Just what is the significance of that last remark?" Nick asked.

The two country girls looked at him as if he had just stepped out of another dimension. "Doesn't your partner know about **_anything_** except city-stuff?"

"Sometimes, I wonder, Fuchs," Judy replied.

Both females shook their heads, sadly. Nick stared first at Judy, then at Edda. "Ok, ladies, would **_someone_** tell me what 'green ribbons' are about?" Edda nodded at Judy, who grinned and broke into a giggle.

"It means, oh-raised-on-concrete-one, that Fuchs here not only won the pie eating contest each year, but she broke her record for number of pies eaten each year," Judy said. She looked back at Edda, "just where did you put it? You're a good inch taller than Nick, but you look to be even lighter than Nick's eighty pounds."

Fuchs laughed. "It's called 'exercise'. That, and the winner in Podunk always got to name the type of pies that would be used in the next year's contest – and I always chose blueberry and cherry mix. And those fruits never seemed to go to my waist – or anywhere else," she said, grinning at Nick.

Nick sighed. "I'll settle for the anchovies and mackerel pizza slices that this place makes. But next time, **_I'm_** going to select where we have lunch."

"You're just upset, Wilde, that you lost the dice-off. Once I replaced **_your_** dice with an honest pair that is…" Edda said.

"Hey, I didn't know that they were loaded, Fuchs! I **_should_** have known when I busted that craps game a couple of months ago that they were using cheating dice," Nick said.

Judy laughed. "You two! C'mon, finish up; we've only got another five minutes to get back to our session with the MBI."

"Don't remind me, Carrots. If only this would 'pass away'…" Nick said, as he gulped down the remainder of his catnip tea, and wrapped up the one remaining slice of pizza. "For later, Carrots."

"Nick, exercise?" Judy asked.

"Later…" Nick said.

Conference Room 3, ZPD Precinct 1 Station

"And so," Nick finished, "these surveillance videos show the transfer of the synthetic 'night howler' serum from the three florist shops noted in this file. Our audio surveillance lead us to believe that the next transfer will occur this upcoming Wednesday, between 1500 and 1600 hours." Nick sat down and faced the MBI agent and her associates. "Any questions?"

Skully looked at her two fellow special agents, both tigers. "Thank you, Officer Wilde; I think you've covered the material."

"Will that be all, then?"

"No, Officer Wilde. We'll be needing additional backup from ZPD to a coordinated raid on these three sites. We'll be bringing in Drug Enforcement for heavies, and I think we'll need …" the wolf bitch paused for a moment in thought, "six two-person SWAT teams at each site. Do you think that you could manage to arrange for the appropriate support forces by … 1530 today?"

Nick looked down at his watch; thirty-five minutes. It would be close, but doable. "I do believe that it will be possible – but final details may not be settled until end-of-shift. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Yes, I think so, Officer Wilde. Now make it so."

Nick stood, nodded to the two tigers, then to Skully, and spun sharply about before strutting out of the conference room, arms swinging six inches to the front, three to the rear.

Wilde's and Hopps' Office, End of Shift

Nick stomped into the office, and leapt into his desk chair, spinning about several times before coming to rest facing the back wall. He leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling.

Judy snorted. "Who was it said, 'never let them see that they've gotten to you'?"

"You know who, Carrots," Nick said, and sighed. "I didn't let **_them_** see how irritating all this has been. I thought – and still do – that I'm allowed to let you see how I feel."

"Thanks – I think. But you shouldn't let Bogo or this lupine MBI see…"

"I know, Carrots. With any luck, this will all be over within a couple of days, and things can go back to 'normal'."

"As if anything in Precinct 1 was ever normal, foxie."

"Yeah, well, 'it's a story, anyway'."

"Dinner at Berry-Berry's tonight?" Judy asked.

"Yeah, something light sounds good. Can we invite Edda?"

"Actually, Nick, I was asking you to join Edda and me, tonight."

"Oh…"

* * *

[1] MBI = Mammal Bureau of Investigation.

[2] The Irish name, "Scully" comes from older forms Ó Scalaidhe, Ó Scolaidhe, Ó Scolaí and Ó Scolaighe. These surnames referred to an ancestor who functioned as a sceulaidhe, a high-ranking storyteller of an old Irish court, or a "student". Other early modern forms of the surname include Scally and Skully. The name Ashling comes From aislinge which means "a vision" or "a dream," Aisling is the name given to a popular poetic genre from the 17th and 18th centuries in which Ireland is personified as a beautiful woman in peril.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Wednesday's Child, Revisited

0515 hours, Police Vehicles Garage, Precinct 1

Nick leaned against the APC[1] and slurped catnip tea through a straw. A quarter of a 24 oz. cup of catnip tea.

"Careful, Wilde – unless you plan on 'holding it in between planet falls'. That stuff will catch up with you," Profaci said, as he strode to his own specified "gathering point".

Nick glared at the six foot tall wolf, but took no other action. It was far too early in the morning – and the lupine LEO towered over Nick under the best of circumstances: in Profaci's current body-armor-and-Kevlar-helmet-with-two-meter-tall-riot-shield garb, he looked more like a lupine tank. That Nick was also sweating in his own equivalent garb (minus the riot shield) didn't make matters any more pleasant.

The DEA "first-in" teams were gathered next to their own APCs; the twenty odd rhinos were decked out with almost as much armor as their APCs. Nick looked them over and shook his head. This was more of a military operation than a police one. He could pick out two MBI agents with each eight man DEA "first-in" team – the MBI agents were all wolves. Big wolves, but still wolves – and the rhinos of DEA all seemed to be larger versions of McHorn, dwarfing even that huge officer.

He was able to spot Francine, looking intimidated by the overwhelming mass of the DEA rhinos, and waved. She returned the friendly wave, but headed for her own gather point rather than closing with the fellow ZPD officer to pass a few minutes in chit-chat.

Nick slurped up another six or seven ounces of catnip tea, and tried to spot either Fuchs or Hopps in the gathering crowd. They were to be in the "command" APC, working with senior field agent Skully to coordinate this "op". He checked his watch; no, it wasn't 0530 … yet. They were supposed to move out at 0540, and hit all three suspected drug labs in a coordinated move at 0605 hours.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder, and he spun around to find himself nose-to-nose with Officer Fuchs.

"Didn't think I could just sneak up on you like that," Fuchs said.

"I was distracted," Nick said. "Have you seen Hopps in this budding Charlie-Foxtrot[2], yet?"

"Language, Nick," a familiar voice said from behind the fox.

Nick spun around, and found himself staring at the top of a Kevlar helmet. He looked down, and saw that Hopps had bundled up in Kevlar body armor.

"It's lighter and less cumbersome than the dragonscale 'stuff' that Fuchs and you have to wear. But it still protects a lot better than the neoprene bodysuit that I normally wear," Hopps said.

Fuchs giggled. "You actually make that horrendous assemblage look good, Lieutenant." She stepped away from the APC so she could look at both Wilde and Hopps at the same time, but her focus was definitely on the other fox. "Has she **_ever_** been this bundled up in your experience, Wilde?"

Nick shook his head. "There were a few times when it might have been nice, but …"

"Just when, Nick?" Hopps interrupted.

"Oh, when you were flying around the top of that train-drug lab, perhaps," Nick said.

"I'd have been a lot less maneuverable, then, Nick!" Hopps shook her head. "Wouldn't have done."

"'Like a rich armor worn in heat of day, that scald'st with safety[3]'…" Fuchs quoted.

"That has to be from **_someone_** , Fuchs," Nick said.

"Only the Bard, Wilde. You should expand your horizon – again," Hopps said.

Nick sighed, popped the top on his cup of catnip tea, and poured the remaining tea down his throat.

"I can't believe how you manage to drink that stuff," Hopps said.

Fuchs giggled. "Give the tod a break, L-T. He's trying to wake up, still. When did **_you_** have to get up, anyway, Wilde?"

"I've been up since 0400 hours. But at least I got to bed by 2100 hours last night. Not as much sleep as I might like, but … better than it could have been," Nick replied, crushed the now empty paper cup, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "Two points!"

Senior Field Agent Ashling Skully strode up to the trio. "Saddle up, people. You know the plan, we move out in two minutes."

Fuchs laughed, and swung into the APC, taking up the driver position. Hopps slid into the gunner position, rapidly adjusting the moveable seat enough to put her in a workable position in the gun blister. Wilde slid into the crew compartment, and managed to wedge himself into the small space for the command and control display. Skully settled down beside him, and plugged in her helmet mounted mike and ear piece. "Just do what I tell you to, Wilde," she said, "and everything will work out just fine."

Nick sighed. "Yes, ma'am," he said, managing to keep his voice level and unemotional.

0600 hours, Command and Control APC

The helmet camera displays from the DEA team leads were up on the three top screens, the two rows of four screens each rotated through the helmet camera displays of the team members. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, which worried Wilde. At whispered command from Skully, Nick switched the display pattern, focusing in all the lower screens on the camera outputs from team 1.

"Team 1, this is Command. You are go in five … four … three … two … one … go, go, GO!" Skully's voice on the command circuit started low and calm, rising up to near shout at the final word.

"Thought it was supposed to be simultaneous…" Nick began to say, and stopped as a large lupine palm smacked the back of his head hard enough to be felt even through the Kevlar helmet.

"Saw something," Skully interrupted. "Team 2, Team 3, this is Command – you are go … weapons free. I repeat, weapons free!"

Nick spun around to face the lupine bitch. "We're police, not…" he started to say, when he was interrupted by a large booming sound drew his attention back to the screens. "What…"

The camera for team 1's lead was down, and the alternate's camera had taken over. Four of the eight cameras for that team were blank, showing only static. The remnants of the "florist" shop were beginning to fall back to earth, like so many gargantuan burning snowflakes. The shop had vanished – along with the two stores to either side.

"Get me teams 2 and 3, Wilde. Now!"

Nick's hands danced across the keyboard, and the cameras for team 2 and 3 came back on in rotation; the morning twilight lit by semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons fire. Every fifth round was tracer, so the screens were lit with an earie tracery of yellow streaks – originating both inside and outside the two other "florist" shops.

"Skully – we need to get a bus – we need multiple busses!" Nick said.

"When the fights done," Skully replied. "Team 2, they're trying to flank you on the left. Send Grover and Mishnik there to cover!" she called out on the command circuit.

"Team 2 acknowledges," came crackling back in their headphones.

0650 hours, Command and Control APC

Nick swallowed. The shooting was over, and he could count fifteen DEA agents, one MBI, and three fellow officers down. He wanted to tear his helmet off and throw away the headset. Instead he just held on, and shook. He know how he smelled – a combination anger, frustration and out-and-out terror. His mouth tasted like a cesspool smelled, and he decided that he could do with a change of underwear. "Can we get some ambulances in now, Senior Field Agent?"

Skully sneered at the fox. "Yes, now. The EMTs won't have to worry about getting their soft furry hides hurt."

Nick stared at the wolf for a long three count before calling in the request. From at least five different emergency centers, as well as the main trauma center in the downtown square. His duties done, for the moment, he turned back towards the lupine female. "Satisfied, Skully?"

"Yes, I am, you stinking voop. Quite satisfied. I got the job done – and we won't have to deal with trials for those sorry sons-of-vixens," she said, barely keeping a snarl out of her voice. "A handful fewer voops and their voop-stink to deal with. Wish it were VVVNMI[4] though."

Nick turned back to the screens, his temper now barely under control. _Never let them see that they've gotten to you_ , he thought.

Just before Shift End, Nick & Judy's Office

"How are you doing on your share of the paperwork, Nick?" Judy asked.

"Doing it, Hopps," Nick grunted. He was hunched over the keyboard, typing and swearing under his breath.

"Are you ok, Nick?" Judy asked, as she hopped out of her chair and began to walk over to Wilde's desk. The fox did not so much as look up from the screen.

"No," he said, a low growl entering his voice.

Judy's nose wiggled and she made a face at the angry scent-cloud that was developing around her vulpine partner. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," he said, the growl louder and more noticeable.

"Ok, do you **_need_** to talk about it – and don't say no **_this_** time, because even **_I_** can tell from your scent that you need to talk to someone about it."

"Just leave me alone, ok? Sensitive subject, and I don't want to talk about it right now," he said, in a voice suddenly devoid of emotion.

2000 hours, Nick Wilde's Apartment

Nick was stretched out on his couch, face down in a large pillow when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Carrots – you **_have_** a key," he called out, his voice only slightly muffled by the pillow.

Hopps hopped over to the couch, followed closely by Edda Fuchs. "You look like crap on a cracker right now, foxie…" she said, as she settled down next to the fox's feet. "And you smell like it, too."

"Thank you, my adoring public," Nick said, his muzzle still buried in the pillow.

"Did you at least enjoy your tennis lesson?" Edda asked.

"Of course I did – I always enjoy being run around like crazy and beaten into the earth by a superior player," he replied.

Edda settled down on the coffee table facing Wilde. "Your brush is a mess, Nick." She sniffed the air. "Did you even bother to shower after your lesson?"

"No, I wasn't expecting company. Just why are the two of you here?"

Judy began playing with the tip of the tod's brush. "You were in such a foul mood at shift end. ADA Carolson said that you were 'in the dumps' when your lesson started, and not much better when it finished. Even though you managed a nice long rally with her – and she said she didn't pull her punches with you, either."

Nick sighed. "Yeah, I did manage to hold my own there a couple of times," he said, as he turned over and sat up.

"So, what got you so down, Nick?" Judy asked.

"The 'V' word. And 'voop stink' comments."

"Ouch!" Edda said. "But you stink of depression and general 'down' emotions right now. Maybe you need to join us for a nightcap? Maybe some ice cream?"

"Ok, ladies, I suppose I could be convinced to join you for ice cream – if you are treating."

Edda and Judy exchanged glances, then both nodded. "If this is a hustle," Judy said, a warning tone in her voice.

"No," Nick replied, "I just … well … I **_really_** don't like having things taken away from me – and to be called names that still hurt, on top of the morning massacre … I barely kept my breakfast down," he said, and shuddered.

"Yeah, not fun. But you need to shower first. Then we can go out without making everyone think that you're suicidal," Edda said.

Nick looked at Edda, then at Judy, sighed, and trundled to the bathroom. "I'll be out in about ten or fifteen minutes, if you can wait."

* * *

[1] **A** rmored **P** ersonnel **C** arrier.

[2] I will not translate this, in the interest of keeping this story somewhat safe for work. Interested parties might seek out service slang, if the meaning does not come to them immediately. – Author.

[3] Prince Henry, **Henry IV** , Part 2, Act 4, Scene 5

[4] VVVNMI = **V** oop **V** ersus **V** oop, **N** o **M** ammal **I** nvolved.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: TGIF

1840 hours, Friday, Nick's Apartment

Nick stretched out on his couch, looking up at the ceiling, his paws behind his head. In response to a knock at the door, he called out, "Come on in, Carrots – you have a key, remember?"

The door opened, and Judy Hopps skipped in, followed by Edda Fuchs.

"What's on the flicks, tonight?" Judy asked.

"It's time for **Bunnyburrow Burning** ," Nick said.

Edda looked over at Judy. "Is he always this cynical?"

"Only when he's depressed. Best solution? Let him watch his depressing movie and tickle him throughout. Get him to laugh," Judy said.

Nick sighed. "No keeping secrets from that one," he said, pointing at the lapine doe with his muzzle. Judy settled on one arm of the couch, then Edda settled down on the other; between them, they squeezed the vulpine male into a somewhat upright position.

"Since you're insisting on your downer movie, the least you can do for us poor defenseless females is to make the popcorn and bring out the tissues," Judy said.

Nick sighed again; this time theatrically, stood up, and hopped over the coffee table. "Since you put it so nicely, I will do this thing. But if anyone considered the two of you to be defenseless, I'd seriously question their eyesight, their intelligence, or both," he said, as he sauntered off towards the kitchenette, shaking his head.

The two females did a high-five, and then sat back chuckling. "Is he always this quick to surrender, L-T?" Edda asked.

"Just when he **_knows_** he's been outfoxed," Judy said, and couldn't resist giggling loud enough for the vulpine male to hear.

"I may not have your big ears, Carrots," Nick shouted from the kitchenette, "but I heard that last comment. And if you don't want me to use the 'C' word at every possible opportunity for the next several days, you'll apologize!"

"The 'C' word, Hopps? What is he …"

"'Cute'. A bunny can call another bunny 'cute', but when any other animal does it, it's kind of …" Judy shrugged and made a face.

"Got it," Edda said. "Stereotyping. So I suppose the 'outfoxed' might be considered specieist, but **_I_** didn't take it that way – and don't take it that way."

"Glad you understand. Did you hear that, Nick?" Judy called out.

"Let it go, Fluff. Popcorn will be ready in a moment," Nick said, just before the hot-air popper began spewing out popped kernels.

#

"Next time, it's going to be an animated film. Not another downer like this one was," Judy said.

"Hey, could have been a lot worse – it was a realistic portrayal of a pretty bad time. My parents lived through that nonsense – before they moved to Podunk to get away from the crap in Bunnyburrow," Edda said.

"But Bunnyburrow wasn't like that when **_I_** was growing up," Judy said.

"No," Nick said, "you were just beaten up by a fox – and you still have to scars to show for it. Something about inheriting the problems of the previous generation, perhaps?"

"It wasn't like that, Nick," Judy replied.

"For most mammals, you can only be what you are, not what you want to be," Nick said.

Edda made a face. "Good grief! Wilde, I knew you were a bit of a cynic, but that's just not true. I was able to become a LEO – maybe not the first, but I was able to fulfill my lifelong ambition…"

"Exceptions that prove the rule, people," Nick said. "I know – we're all examples. Fluff, here, was the first bunny cop. Me, I was the first vulpine LEO. And Edda, with all due respect, you're a member of a fairly small minority – another 'Mammal Inclusion Initiative' case."

"Hey, I worked for what I got – nothing was just handed to me. I'll admit that I got my chance through the Initiative, but I **_worked_** for what I got at the Academy," Edda said.

"That's it – you 'picked a lane' back then. I'm glad it worked out for you, Edda," Nick said.

Both females' stared at the male vulpine. "Ok, just what does that mean, Nick?" Judy asked.

"What does what mean?" Nick asked.

Judy shook her head. "More street slang – 'picked a lane'? Just what does that mean?"

Nick smirked. "There are times when I'm **_so_** glad that I wasn't born out in the sticks! Perhaps I should run a class in Zootopia slang for the two of you?"

Edda grinned. "Sounds good to me – just what would the tuition be?" she asked, and licked her chops lasciviously.

Nick sidled away from the vixen, and bumped into the lapine doe, who promptly elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch! Ok, I yield! No more elbows, though!"

"Want me to …" Judy began.

"Stop. Don't say it!" Nick interrupted the lapine doe. "Ok, I guess that this expression never made it out into Bunnyburrow or Podunk. So: life is like a street. A dangerous Zootopia street. What you have to do is pick a lane – any lane. And then let no one cut you off. Ever."

Edda snorted. "Ok, that makes sense. Be decisive and 'full speed ahead'. Of course, if you do something that violates societal norms, it can get you into a great deal of trouble – just like those three freedom riders in that movie of yours."

Nick stared at Edda for a long five count. "They were working towards a higher justice – even at the cost of their lives. And the two MBI agents were just trying to do their jobs – to 'get the bad guys'. Just as, we try to do our jobs – to 'get the bad guys'."

"So here's to 'getting the bad guys'. But there's also a bit of social justice to what we do as well – we uphold the societal norms," Edda replied.

Nick shook his head. "I guess I should have gone to college, or read more – I just thought that what we were doing was 'playing the game'. And before you ask, that's my own way of describing things. When I go out on the street, when **_we_** go out on the street," he said, nodding and pointing with his muzzle first at Judy, then at Edda, "it's to outsmart the 'bad guys'. The mammals that think that they can get away with hurting other mammals. For me, it's a game, but it's a game that we play to keep society running smoothly. We're the oil in the gears of society, not the emery powder – the 'bad guys' are the emery powder."

"So what about victimless crimes? Like prostitution?" Edda asked.

"I'd have thought after your day of 'John enticing' for Vice you'd be really **_down_** on prostitution," Nick said. "But it's not victimless in my opinion – the victims are the prostitutes. They are beaten up and many of them were forced into 'the life' by pimps – who take up most of their income."

"But they violate social norms…" Edda said.

"And they pay a big price for it – but if we get the 'Johns' to stop using them," Nick said, "we can get rid of the problem."

"Good luck there, Nick," Judy said. "I don't think that **_anyone_** has ever managed to do away with 'the oldest profession' – even for a couple of years."

"Ok, so it's a never-ending task. But .. 'a mammal's reach must exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for'?" Nick asked.

"This is getting far too philosophical for a Friday night, unless we down at least three beers each," Judy said, and giggled. "Do you have enough in your fridge?"

Nick sighed. "I suppose that I can dig up at least two cold ones each – but I've only got one six pack that's cold."

"Then put another one in the fridge – you do have a second six pack, don't you?" Judy asked.

"Of hard cider," Nick said, rising to get the beer.

2315 hours, Friday, Nick's Apartment

"Now you see, it wasn't all that bad Carrots. Edda had a good time, and you had a good time, and we all had a bit of stress relief," Nick said, as he dropped a fennel leaf into the lapine doe's waiting mouth.

Judy looked up at the fox and gave him her best "big eyes" expression from where she lay, her head resting in Nick's lap. "I notice you left yourself off that list of satisfied customers."

"My satisfaction goes without saying, Fluff," he said, as he dropped another fennel leaf into Judy's open mouth.

"Just **_why_** did you have to invite Officer Fuchs to our Friday Flicks night, again?"

"You know why, Fluff. She's lonesome and homesick. And she's been through a **_lot_** in her first few days on the street. I thought that it would be nice if we could …"

"Make it a threesome? Looking for something more than just a bit more than a morale booster for a pretty – pardon me, beautiful – vixen?" Judy asked, in a voice dripping honey (at least on the surface).

"Snorkel, Fluff. And yes, I do have more than one objective in mind. Since we seem to be alternating training officers for 'Officer Fuchs', it helps if we can see her in a non-official situation," Nick said.

Judy snorted. "The way she was hanging on you, and the way you were responding…"

"Snorkel squared, Carrots. We're the only two foxes on the force right now, and you must expect a bit of … 'friendliness' between co-species members." Nick dropped another fennel leaf into a waiting lapine mouth. "Are your eyes changing color to match mine?"

Judy chewed and swallowed the fennel leaf before replying. "I am **_not_** jealous…"

"Right, 'it's a story, anyway'. Have another one you want to tell me, little miss green eyes?"

"Nick, I am **_not,_** but it's not nice to lead people on. Especially…"

"When someone's eyes aren't turning green – they're turning brown. Because you are getting so **_full_** of it…"

Judy made a fist and hit the fox underneath his ribcage as hard as she could; he doubled over, gasping. "That **_hurt_** , Fluff!" he said, after he managed to regain control of his breathing.

"Insulting me is hardly the way to get me 'in the mood', Nicholas Piberius," Judy said.

"Wasn't being insulting, Fluff. But you were trying to hand me a story – you **_know_** that we're going to have to make some decisions, and they're not going to be easy ones."

"We could adopt, Nick. And we haven't – well, **_you_** haven't asked me to marry you."

"Yet. And … I'd like to have kits of my own – my 'genetic heritage'. And no matter how hard we might try, we are separate species – so no 'boxes' or 'funnies'."

"What about Reynolds, then? He was a hybrid…"

"Between a coyote and a wolf. A very weird genetic combination, and the main canid lines have more plastic genomes than you might think. But not enough to mix a fox – a much different line – and a bunny, not even **_close_** to the same genetic makeup. Predator and prey."

"You've been researching this – 'genome', 'genetic makeup'. That's not part of your usual vocabulary," Judy said.

"Guilty. But we have to think about this, and I'd like us to come up with an answer before we go any further."

"Why not adoption, then?" Judy asked.

"Because I want to have kits of my own. That's something you **_can't_** give me. Do you want to adopt some baby bunnies?"

"I'd be perfectly happy to adopt – it's not as though my 'genetic line' would disappear. There are all my siblings…"

"Ok, so you're ok with adoption of rabbit offspring. But I'm an only child. If I don't father a child, the Wilde family line ends with me. And call me selfish, but … I'd like to have some kits of my own. Can you understand that?"

Judy sighed. "I can understand, but it's not something we have to decide tonight, do we?"

"Perhaps not, but you have to think about it. I have – and there's really only one solution that I see right now."

"But we might come up with another one?"

"I won't say that it's impossible – except that I don't think either of us can come up with a mutually satisfactory solution tonight. But we do need to think it through, agreed?"

"Agreed. But do you object to my solution – for me, at least?"

"No, if you want to adopt, well, I think I'll be able to wrap my head around it. But don't expect me to swallow it down in one gulp. I'll need to nibble around the edges of your solution for you before I can swallow it. Is that ok with you?"

"Ok, Nick. We'll have to talk more about this."

"Agreed."


	14. Chapter 14: Bad Boys

Chapter 14: Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You

Monday, Roll Call, Precinct One

"Profaci, Francine, Wolfowitz, bank robbery in the Rainforest District. Follow-on with the DA's office. Fangmire, Delgato…" Chief Bogo went through the assignments for the day. Nick sat through the cape buffalo's droning voice.

"…And finally, Hopps, Wilde and Fuchs – Hopps, you continue as Fuch's training officer, and the three of you will be supporting a special sort of 'ride along' this week," Bogo finished. "Details – my office. The rest, dismissed!"

Chief Bogo's Office

The three trooped into the Chief's office; Nick carefully kept his expression neutral. "Details, Chief Bogo?" he asked.

"Wilde, you will be driving a team of two 'ride alongs' – one will be with you in the forward section, the cameraman…"

"Cameraman! Just what…"

"Shut your mouth, Wilde! The cameraman will be in the back seat. Hopps, you and Fuchs will be in the second car, along with one of the 'ride alongs' in the front section – he'll have a small camera with him. There will be a third van, driven by technical crew with more camera and sound equipment."

"Excuse me, Chief," Hopps asked, "but just who **_are_** these 'ride alongs'? And why do they need cameras?"

"Because they're from Cops, Hopps," Bogo said.

"The TV show?" Fuchs asked.

"Yes, the TV show. And we don't have a choice – this comes from the Mayor's office," Bogo said.

"Is the mayor going to kiss us, at least?" Wilde asked.

"Excuse me?" Bogo replied.

"Because if we're going to get screwed, we at least want to be kissed!" Wilde snarled.

Second Floor Hallway, Precinct 1

"You do realize, Wilde, that your last comment to the Chief was rather insubordinate?" Fuchs asked as the trio walked to the Precinct garage.

"If you think **_that_** was insubordinate, Fuchs, you don't want to here what I **_thought_** about saying about this assignment to Chief Buffalobutt," Wilde replied.

"Now, Nick, you shouldn't call him that," Judy said.

Nick took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Then he took another, calming breath. "If that's the worst that I call him by the time this day is over…"

"Buck up, Wilde, it won't be **_that_** bad. It couldn't be!" Fuchs interrupted.

"Famous last words. I hope you're right, Bigbrush, but…"

"What. Did. You. Call. Me?" Fuchs said, stopping short and stomping one foot.

Hopps reached up and patted Fuchs on the shoulder. "Don't let it get to you, Fuchs. The tod opens his mouth, inserts his foot, then chews vigorously."

"And I suppose that he's going to 'repeat the macro' at every opportunity?" Fuchs asked, looking only at the diminutive lapine lieutenant.

"He has some redeeming features, though. His big mouth isn't one of them, I'd be first to admit…"

"I do happen to be here, ladies – you need not speak about me using the third person…"

"Then do your job, Nick," Hopps said, "and we'll treat you like you're here for real."

Fuchs giggled, "soldier, shut up and soldier…"

"And thank you, Bigbrush," Nick said, bowing deeply, "for that truly uplifting motivational comment."

Fuchs sighed, looked up at the ceiling, and silently counted to five. "I suppose you'd be upset if I stuffed him, face down, into a trash can, L-T?"

"Make it a recycle bin, and I'll overlook it…" Hopps said and, arm in arm, resumed walking to the police garage.

Nick shrugged and sighed. It was clearly going to be one of those days. "Mondays, I really hate Mondays," he muttered, as he followed the two females.

Monday, Motorized Patrol, Foxtown

Nick tried to keep an eye on the street as well as periodically turning to face the camera and the "ride along" TV personality as they stopped at the traffic light. "ZPD has been trying, of late, to increase it's presence in this area…" he said, carefully breathing through his mouth so as to not inhale the stink of the goat riding shotgun.

"Colloquially called 'Foxtown', is it not, for the … less than reputable mammals that have taken up residence in this area?"

"If you're asking, 'are there lots of foxes in this area', the answer is, 'yes, there are'. But they are employed in a wide variety of positions within Zootopia." He paused as the traffic sped up as the traffic light changed. He pointed with his muzzle as they passed a less decrepit building, "one of the ADAs – that's Assistant District Attorney – lives in that building. ADA Carolson – she's been working second seat on major cases for over a year, now."

"But the bulk of the residence here – how do they react to one of their own, another 'voop' – policing…"

Wilde suppressed a snarl. "That's a term – the 'v' word – that a wise officer doesn't use in this area. It's an emotionally loaded highly pejorative term. We have foxes of several species in this area – the rents are more affordable, and yes, the housing is a bit … run down … on the outside. But if you look **_inside_** in the apartments, you'll see that we keep our own accomodations in better shape than the absentee landlords keep the exterior surfaces."

"But you didn't answer our question – how do they react to a fellow … fox … policing them? Have you had any problems that larger … non-vulpine … officers have avoided here?"

Nick shook his head. "I live in this neighborhood – the other residents have given me fewer troubles than they've given several other officers. I'm … 'one of their own'. And with the inclusion of Officer Edda Fuchs to the team in Precinct 1, matters are more settled now than they've been in quite some time."

"So you think that the Mammal Inclusion Initiative has been a valuable adjunct to the normal recruitment procedures of the ZPD?"

"Do I think that the MII has been a positive factor? Yes, I do. It's not the **_only_** positive factor – the 'bottom line' for the ZPD is, simply put, 'is the city safer for the average citizen' because of the MII, or any other initiative. And I think the answer is yes – and I **_believe_** that the …"

The radio came alive, interrupting the fox's comment, "King Five and King Six, 10-17 at 1510 130th Street, Apartment 511. Repeat: 10-17 reported at 1510 130th Street, Apartment 511, Handle Code 2."

Nick reached over, and grabbed the radio mike. "King Five, 10-4, en route," he called out, and spun the SUV around, clearing traffic with occasional taps of the siren or lights. "10-17 is a domestic violence report, and you are **_not_** going to be following us in – DV cases can go violent at the drop of a hat," he said to the ride along. King Six – with Hopps and Fuchs, spun around and followed.

In Front of 1510 130th Street

Wilde reported arrival to dispatch, and exited the ZPD SUV. He grinned a toothy grin at the interviewer, and studiously avoided opening the "passenger" door, so as to keep the cameraman locked in in the back of his cruiser. "Please stay out here on the street – Officer Fuchs, Lieutenant Hopps, and I will be going in to the building, and we will deal with the situation there."

"But the public has a right to see…"

"That's what our body cameras are for, sir," Nick interrupted the interviewer. Fuchs and Hopps joined him and Hopps lead the way into the apartment building.

In the stairwell…

"Apartment 511 is leased out to a Grey fox couple," Hopps said, as she took the steps two at a time. "This is the third DV call in the last four weeks."

"Great – they'll likely outweigh me by a good twenty percent," Nick muttered.

"Why haven't we wrapstrapped the tod?" Fuchs called out, from her position as "tail end Charlie" going up the stairs.

"The tod is the one getting beaten up – and he's not been willing to press charges," Hopps called back.

"Why can't we arrest the **_vixen_** , then? Even if the tod won't press charges, isn't it obvious?" Fuchs asked.

"Save your breath, Bigbrush," Nick responded. "Just follow Fluffbun's lead on this one."

"Speaking of brushes, Wilde, if you don't stop sticking it in my face, I'm going to bite it," Fuchs replied.

"If I lift it, you get an unwanted peek, Bigbrush," Nick replied. "And if you break it, you own it…"

"Stop the chatter, you two!" Hopps called back at the two foxes. "Sweet cheese and crackers, **_keep your minds on business_**!"

"Hey, Fluff butt, you know you love it…" Nick said.

"If you have breath for chatter, you aren't going up the steps fast enough," Hopps said, and began taking the steps four at a time. Wilde, and then Fuchs, picked up their pace to keep up with the rabbit.

At Apartment 511

Hopps reached the door first; she could hear the screaming of the two foxes within even through the heavy door. "This is the police, please open the door!" she called out, as she pounded on the door with her fist. Wilde and Fuchs took up positions to either side of the lapine lieutenant.

The sounds of an argument could be heard, even through the apartment door. Hopps waited for a fast five count, then pounded on the door again with her open palm. "Zootopia Police, **_open the door, now!_** " she shouted. She paused again, then stepped back and jumped at the door, kicking hard with both feet. The door shook, but held, as the lapine doe bounced back and onto her feet. "ZPD, open the door or we're going to come through it!" she yelled, and then repeated her leap and kick maneuver; this time, the lock splintered and the door swung wide.

Wilde and Fuchs stepped over their lieutenant; the two arguing foxes seemed not to notice that their door had just been kicked in, so intent were they upon screaming and striking at each other.

"This brush was good enough for you when we were married, I am **_not_** going to get an implant to 'bush it out'," the vixen was shrieking, as she waved her tail in front of her tod's muzzle.

"You can't be bothered with 'bushing it out' because you don't **_care_** about…" the tod screamed in reply, stopping only when the vixen lashed out at him and tore into his throat ruff with extended claws.

"Hold it, both of you!" Fuchs called out, and tried to interpose herself between the fighting couple, facing the tod, her back to the vixen.

"NO!" Hopps and Wilde shouted together.

The tod ducked, his hands to his throat, blood beginning to seep out between his fingers; the vixen with a mindless shriek, jumped on Fuchs' back and began clawing at the officer's face.

Two tranquilizer guns fired as one and the "citizen" (now reclassified as "perp" let out a small "queep" sound, and collapsed as the fast acting anesthetic took effect.

"Wilde – call this in – we need a bus, and we need to take these two in," Hopps said.

"Charges?" Nick asked, "other than the obvious?"

"Assaulting a police officer, assault and battery on the vixen, disturbing the peace for now on the tod. And get a bus!"

"Acknowledged – bus for two. I don't like the look of that throat wound on the tod."

Hopps sighed, and wrapstrapped the vixen's paws behind her back, while Wilde did the same for the tod.

Back Down in the Street, After the dust has settled

"Did you have to arrest both parties?" the goat asked, once Wilde was back in the patrol car.

"Procedure – we have everything on our body cameras. The vixen clearly assaulted officer Fuchs, as well as the tod who we assume is her husband. They were both clearly disturbing the peace, but who started the fight, and who escalated it? We're going to let the two of them explain themselves **_after_** we've dealt with the obvious injuries."

"Why aren't you taking them in your patrol car, Officer Wilde?"

"Both individuals needed medical attention – Hopps and I both fired trank darts into the vixen, and she needed attention for possible overdose. The tod was bleeding from a throat wound – that could have been fatal. Keep them alive, stabilized, and stitched up as soon as possible. Afterwards, we can deal with criminal charges."

"Won't the DA's office just let this drop? It was just a 'VVVNMI', after all, was it not?"

Nick took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 'Voop-versus-voop-no-mammal-involved' is a slang expression that is not commonly used in the ZPD. It inolves an emotionally loaded pejorative, 'voop', and for your information, **_every_** mammal counts in Zootopia. Prey, predator, even foxes – we all need to obey **_and must be protected by_** the law. All must be protected, or none of us is protected."

"Do you actually believe that, Officer Wilde? Or is it just that you're a voop yourself?" the goat asked.

"I became a LEO – a law enforcement officer – because I thought I could do some good. And to show **_everyone_** – predator and prey alike – that foxes could be 'good guys' too. Judge us by our actions, by our behaviors, not by our appearances."

Wilde's and Hopps' Office, Precinct One, End of Shift

Nick leaned back and stretched. He massaged his neck, trying to work the knots out of his muscles as Hopps "read the riot act" to Officer Fuchs.

"You **_never_** get between a couple in a DV situation," Hopps said. "You can't tell what they'll do – other than it will end up getting you **_hurt_**." She shook her head, more in sadness than in anger. "How many stitches did it take for that cut on your muzzle, by the way?"

"Eight," Fuchs' mumbled. "And I get the point – I won't pull **_that_** dumb move again."

"Good – you're learning, then. We don't need to have another car convention[1], Fuchs. And I **_really_** don't want to hold one for you."

"Don't be too hard on the rookie, Carrots," Nick said. "I think she's gotten the point. Now she'll have a set of scars to match yours – just another member of the team."

"You have scars? Did you make the same mistake I just did, Lieutenant?" Fuchs asked.

"No, Edda – I just didn't know when to quit. A long time ago, when I got into a bit of a fight with an older fox."

"And?"

Hopps brushed the fur on her cheek back to show the scars. "He decided to 'mark' me – and don't worry, I don't hold it against all foxes. I've forgiven Gideon – he apologized – and I've made just a few vulpine friends since."

"Like your partner?" Fuchs asked.

"I'd like to think so, and I'd like to think that even though I'm your training officer, that we'll become friends too."

* * *

[1] Slang expression for a police funeral.


	15. Chapter 15: Interlude

Chapter 15: Interlude

Friday, End of Shift, Precinct 1, Wilde's & Hopps' Office

"I am **_so_** glad that this week is over, Nick," Hopps said.

"You and me both, Carrots. Let's see now … while we were dragging the cameras around, along with that goat – remind me to get the patrol car detailed and steam cleaned – we helped make the world a better place by what? Taking out two DV cases, four domestic disturbances, and two shoplifting cases?" Wilde said.

"One shoplifting was of a seven hundred dollar purse, at least…" Hopps countered.

"And the other was of a twenty-five cent candy bar. Didn't you **_ever_** swipe a candy bar…?" Wilde replied, and stopped in response to a lapine scowl. "Ok, so **_you_** would have never swiped a candy bar from a store. But in Foxtown, it's practically a rite of passage."

"You mean **_you_** were a sneak thief when you were young," Hopps said.

"Hey, I didn't say **_I_** swiped candy from stores – any candy I took, I took with clever words and innuendo. I **_conned_** other kids into giving me their candy."

"You stole candy from children. Nick…" Hopps sighed.

"I'm not going to compound the error by telling a lie, Carrots. Remember our deal?"

"Honesty. Yes, but there are times when I wish you wouldn't tell **_all_** the truth."

"We have an agreement – or do you want to void it?" Wilde turned to face his partner. After a long five count, he cocked his head to one side. "Well?"

"No," Hopps replied. "I don't. But … honesty doesn't mean that you have to tell everything."

"Ah, so you want me to refrain from telling the truth, when it might rub your fur the wrong way? That doesn't sound honest to me, Carrots."

"I don't know what's gotten you on this 'honest in everything' kick – unless it's just another way you've found to drive me stark raving nuts. Just what is it that you want, Nick?"

"Maybe it's just displacement behavior[1]. After spending a week with that bigoted goat **_trying_** to get a hasty or careless response from me, well…"

"So, Nick, your conflicting drives were?" Hopps asked.

"Between taking a good part of his pelt for the office wall, here, and just plain pushing him out of the car."

"Well, pushing him out would have been better, wouldn't it have?"

"When we were on the expressway on Wednesday – doing fifty. Believe me, I was tempted."

"Did you show it? I don't think that the Chief would have approved."

"I'm pretty sure that he was hoping I'd do something nasty to those fake newsies. But it will be two weeks before they show this 'episode'. The goat let slip that tonight's episode was going to be in Bunnyburrow. Now **_that_** is an episode I want to see," Wilde said, his muzzle wrinkled up in a cross between a grin and a snarl.

"It will be a pretty boring episode, I'll wager," Hopps said. "Don't you have a car chase movie you'd rather watch?"

"Anything to change the subject? Ok, maybe I'll just set the DVR to record it for later play … when I'm alone, and can curse and scream at the screen on my own."

"Do you want to be alone tonight?"

"No – but I'm going to take a vote on what we watch tonight," Wilde said.

It was Hopps' turn to sigh and roll her eyes. "So Fuchs will be joining us tonight?"

"For snacks and the boob tube, yes. With three votes, there will be a clear decision. Even if I'm voted down, at least it will be done fairly," Wilde said.

"Another hustle? Have you already made an arrangement with Fuchs?"

"Nothing more than a common interest in seeing something a bit closer to the country. Given that the flicks I have on DVD are **The Expendables** , **The Expendables 2** , and **Mad Yax: Beyond Thunderdome** …" Wilde said.

"Nick, are you purposely trying to drive me crazy? Haven't you picked up **_any_** romantic comedies?"

"I rely on you for those."

"Do you want me to bring **Fifty Shades of Prey**?"

"Do you **_have_** that on DVD? And have you watched it?" Wilde asked.

"Yes, and have you?"

"No, I read the reviews, and decided that I didn't want to watch a BDSM movie. I got more than enough of that watching those knife-kill porn videos," Wilde said, and after a short pause, continued. "Do **_you_** like that sort of thing? BDSM, not knife-kill porn."

"No, but there was a certain … romantic … element to the lady 'giving' herself to her lover – placing everything at risk in order to satisfy **_his_** need of conquest," Hopps replied. "But even if that's a little bit too close to home for you, what about something like **Mr. Right**?"

Wilde responded with a belly laugh. "This is getting even weirder than our situation. I mean, a vixen falls for her 'perfect' tod – who turns out to be a hitman for the Mob? I suppose that you could argue that I was the archetypal 'bad boy' – and thus attractive more than usual thereby, but really! I was a **_con-fox_** , not a vulpine killer-for-hire."

"Then what about **Dante's Peak**?"

"Ok, that's a little bit closer to sanity. But it's not exactly a romantic comedy – it's a disaster movie more than anything else. The romance between the character played by Linda Buckton and the character played by Pierce Brostag was secondary."

"But they were such a **_cute_** couple – and their romance was …" Hopps stopped, as Wilde's laughter cut her short.

"Two deer and Brostag was practically pawing the ground towards the end of the movie. If it was comedy, it was gallows humor. His boss getting swept away by the flood and killed towards the end? I mean, really!"

"Ok, it had some grim moments, but Linda and Pierce were a beautiful cervine couple – and even you, the cynic, have to admit that there was a certain … spark … between their characters that spoke of more than just acting."

"Maybe. But I'd watch that more for Linda than for Pierce. And where did you see that movie – it was out in what, early '97 or thereabouts? Nearly twenty years ago? You would have been … no more than six years old?"

"Ok, so I didn't see it in the theater – I saw it on the 'small screen' when I was in High School. So what about…" Hopps began.

"Enough!" Wilde interrupted. "I can see that there's enough material for several hours of conversation, or argument, here – at least on your side. Why don't you make up a list of your favorite romcoms, and I'll make up a list of my favorite thriller, disaster, and other crazy movies, and – subject to partner vetoes – we can alternate. Sound like a plan?"

Hopps couldn't help but giggle. "I give up, Nick. It beats arguing over the subject until it's too late to watch **_anything_**. Although the make-ups can make the arguments almost worthwhile," she said, and struck a pose.

Wilde sighed. "I yield to your superior silliness – not to mention 'c'-ness…"

"You're **_not_** supposed to use the 'c' word, Nick."

"I didn't – you supplied it, not me, Carrots."

"Incorrigible…"

* * *

[1] Displacement behaviour usually occurs when an animal is torn between two conflicting drives, such as fear and aggression. Displacement activities often consist of comfort movements, such as grooming, scratching, drinking, or eating.


	16. Chapter 16: Hunter, Prey

Chapter 16: Hunter, Prey

Friday Evening, Nick's Apartment

" **Spartacus**. A predator slave rebellion against the majority prey rulers of Rome. Just where did you come up with this one, Edda?" Judy asked.

"It's a good movie – well acted, with A-list stars throughout," Edda said.

"And it's more than three hours long!" Judy exclaimed.

"Ok, then how about **Cabaret**? Liza Mink, Joel Greymuzzle, and a bunch of other good actors and actresses," Edda asked.

"A movie set in the decadent period in Germany just before the war?" Nick called out from the kitchenette, where he was preparing the evening's snacks (popcorn for all, turkey bacon for himself and Edda).

Edda shrugged, and Judy called back, "Ok, wise guy, what do you suggest?"

"I thought the two of you were more interested in romantic comedies … surely there's something better than a doomed uprising and a descent into the abyss? Maybe something like … oh … I don't know, **Titanic**?" Nick asked.

"And that **_isn't_** depressing?" Edda responded.

"I've already voiced my opinion of that movie, Nick," Judy said.

"What happened to the idea of making up lists, and then rotating through the lists?" Nick called out. "We can dice for the order that we'll rotate through the lists."

Edda and Judy exchanged looks. "Ok, but we all use the same pair of dice," Judy said. "That way, if you've got a loaded pair, we'll all be on an even playing field."

"Done! But Edda will have to roll for me – I'm going to be in here making snacks for a few minutes more."

Edda took a pair of dice from the serving bowl on the coffee table, and called out, "Rolling for me – I get a nine. Rolling for our favorite 'bad boy' – I get a seven. You lose, Nick."

"Favorite 'bad boy', Edda?" Judy asked, in a near whisper.

"He's a nice tod – and he does have that 'bad boy' background," Edda replied, also in a whisper.

"I can hear you both," Nick called out from the kitchenette. "And just because I changed into swimming trunks to cook the turkey bacon, doesn't mean that I've gone all 'bad boy' on the two of you!"

Both females giggled. "Ok, I guess whispering doesn't work," Edda said. "For a city fox, Nick's hearing is far too good." She handed the dice to Judy, who rolled snake eyes.

"Looks like Edda gets to pick tonight, Nick."

" **Spartacus,** and I'll save **Cabaret** for another time," Edda said, and loaded the DVD into Nick's player.

#

"I particularly liked Tony Curtail," Edda said.

"Right. Only a fox could play the Greek Slave, Antoninus. After all, who **_else_** could be so clever? Intelligence, to counter the brute power and force of character of the protagonist – played by a wolf, naturally," Nick sighed, and shook his head.

"What are you going to do about Judy?" Edda asked, pointing at the lapine doe who was curled up into a snoring furry ball on the couch.

"Let her sleep," Nick said, as Edda yawned. "Looks like you're in no shape to go anywhere further tonight."

"I was up at 0400 this morning and it's now …" she glanced at her watch, "nearly midnight."

"Well, there's the recliner, and Judy doesn't take up that much space on the couch – you could share with her," Nick replied.

Edda looked the tod over, and grinned. "Do you have a bundling board[1]?"

"A … 'bundling board'?" Nick asked. "Ok, remember me – 'raised on concrete'? What is it?"

"Oh, just a symbolic board – laid down between two members of the opposite sex as a 'barrier' not to be surmounted. So that the two of them could lie down in the same bed, but remain, in theory at least, chaste," Edda answered.

"Ah … are you asking what I **_think_** you're asking?" Nick asked, his eyes widening.

"Such a clever tod. I'm suggesting that we share your bed – just for sleeping, of course. Wouldn't want to get too frisky. But it saves me trying to drag myself halfway across Foxtown after midnight, and then sleeping in a very cold apartment bed. It's really just a matter of being … efficient," she said, grinning.

"I think I can manage something … with a broomstick," Nick said.

Edda laughed. "'Jump rogue, and leap whore, and married be forever more'[2]."

"Excuse me?" Nick asked and cocked his head to one side.

"Oh, 'back when', when predators were oppressed far more than now, they weren't allowed to marry – in the conventional, religious sense. So … we had our own form of 'marriage ceremony'. Jumping the broom was a part of that ceremony – though it was done in front of other members of the community. That's why I thought you choice of a broomstick as a 'bundling board' was so funny – if either of us 'jumped the broom', we'd be 'married' in that old sense," Edda explained.

"Or I could just push you out the door…"

"You wouldn't be that cruel, would you, Nick?" Edda interrupted him, and batted her eyelashes at the tod.

"If you promise not to be 'naughty'…"

"I was just **_teasing_** you, Nick. Or you could call it harmless flirting. You do it, so what's wrong with a vixen doing it back?" Edda grinned at Nick, and licked her chops.

Nick swallowed, and ran his tongue over his teeth before replying. "When you look at me like that, I feel like I'm being sized up for someone's lunch."

"Ok, I'll stop teasing – but I really **_don't_** want to try and walk two miles to my apartment after being up for twenty hours already. So be a good tod, and let me sleep in a real bed – I'm not small enough to really share the couch," she said, and pointed to the sleeping Judy, who had now sprawled out, taking up the maximum possible room thereon, her feet thumping gently on one arm of the couch at roughly five Hertz. "She may be short, but … those ears and feet can take up a lot of space."

Nick sighed, glanced at Judy, and shook his head sadly. "I'll get the broom – and you'll stay on your side, right?"

"I'll be a good vixen," Edda answered, crossing her heart with one paw; she ruined the effect by grinning and licking her chops lasciviously.

Saturday Morning, Nick's Apartment

Judy woke up with a start to the sound of someone running the shower. Nick was just stepping out of the bedroom, dressed only in swim trunks. "Why didn't you wake me, Nick? Especially if you're leaving the shower running…"

"I didn't – Edda's using the…"

"Edda? She stayed over last night? Where did she sleep?"

"On the other side of an improvised 'bundling board' in my bed…"

"You. Did. What?" Judy sat up, her right foot thumping on the floor at upwards of twenty Hertz.

"She slept on the **_other_** side of my bed. In case you've forgotten, Miss 'Thief of Blanket', I make the bed with two sets of top sheets and blankets on the weekends. Seems that someone likes to bundle up in a cocoon, and if I don't want to end up 'out in the cold', I have to provide for two people's needs," Nick said.

"But you **_slept_** with that vixen!"

"I slept in the same bed as 'that vixen', as you put it. It was past midnight when the movie ended, and **_we_** didn't think that it would be nice to force her to walk two miles through Foxtown to her apartment. Have you ever tried to hail a cab around here after midnight?"

"No, Nick, I haven't. But why couldn't she have slept on the couch, or the recliner? For that matter, why did you leave me sleeping on the couch?"

"The recliner is anything but comfortable to sleep in, and **_you_** were sleeping on the couch. And you **_sprawl_**. For someone so small, you take up a frightfully large space – either on the couch or in bed," Nick said.

"But you shared the bed with … **_her_**!"

"Get over it, Carrots! Nothing untoward happened. We both just crashed. I didn't even bother changing out of my clothes," Nick said.

"What was she wearing?"

"Ok, **_Edda_** may have taken off everything but her panties – I didn't pay attention. I was too busy curling up in my own blankets, and I nodded off in no more than a minute or two."

"How. Could. You?" Judy asked, her voice rising to a shriek at the end.

"Very easily – it was easier and simpler than escorting Edda to her apartment and back. And then **_I_** would have had to run through the dark streets for two miles. Thank you, no thank you!" Nick said.

"Now she's showering…and you're wearing just your swim trunks again!"

"There's a reason for that."

"What's your clever explanation for the mode of dress," Judy asked.

"Simple – I'm going to cook turkey bacon. If Edda wasn't here, I'd be doing it in the nude."

"Why?"

"It's a reminder not to cook the bacon with the temperature set too high – if it gets too hot, the grease will spatter. If I'm in the nude – or near nude – any spatter and I'll immediately know it. The hot grease **_hurts_**. So I keep the flame high enough, but not too high, so I keep the temperature **_just right_** and then I can cook the turkey bacon 'till it's **_just right_** ," Nick replied.

"I suppose we're going to get a lingerie fashion show when Miss Fuchs gets out of the shower?" Judy asked.

"Since Edda took **_all_** of her clothes into the bathroom with her, I expect **_her_** to be fully dressed when she's finished with the fur dryer," Nick answered.

Judy glared at the smirking fox. "Bad enough that I have to share flicks night with Miss Fuchs, but do I have to share **_you_** with her as well?"

"You're not sharing me with anyone right now – but it wouldn't have been right to force Edda to risk her brush wandering through Foxtown late at night."

At this moment, the sounds of running water stopped, and a few seconds later, the buzz of the fur dryer in the bathroom started up, on high.

"So Miss 'Bigbrush' will be out shortly, and I trust that she will be presentable?" Judy asked.

"Snark does not become you, Carrots. And I expect that **_Edda_** will be properly dressed. Although, now that you mention it," Nick said, "she **_does_** have a nice thick brush." He grinned. "Your eyes are definitely taking on an emerald tinge right now."

"I thought you preferred monogamous relationships. Should I take it that I am 'last week's lady'?"

"On the basis of my making another friend? Hardly. Unless you're going to require that I not pay attention to any other female. Remember? 'A pretty vixen is one I notice, a beautiful one is one who notices me'."

"Looking is one thing, but **_sleeping_** with them is something else altogether!"

"Sleeping isn't the problem, when you think it through, Carrots. If we **_weren't_** sleeping, then it would be a different matter. Take a sniff if you don't believe me – I haven't showered yet."

Judy stood there, dumbstruck for a long ten count. "What?"

"If you're worried that Edda and me were 'fooling around' instead of just simply sleeping, take a sniff and you should be able to tell – your sense of smell isn't quite as good as mine, but you should be able to scent a vixen on a 'tod's parts' if we were doing anything naughty," Nick said, calm and cool as a cucumber.

The lapine doe snorted, but closed with the fox, pulled his trunks open and stuck her nose close before taking a deep breath. "I can smell … me … and you. But we haven't…"

"Done anything since Wednesday evening. Satisfied?"

Judy let the trunks snap back and turned to face the taller fox. "I'm sorry, Nick – I shouldn't have drawn conclusions in advance of evidence." She wrinkled her nose. "But you need to take a shower – really!"

"Once Edda is finished drying off…"

"I'll be showering with you…"

"Territorial imperative?"

"No … us bunnies just know how to multiply…"

* * *

[1] Bundling Boards - A bundling board was a wooden plank used to keep the man and woman separate from one another in bed. Boards might be as long as the bed itself and varied in style. Some rose quite high and created a substantial barrier between the bed's occupants. Others were shorter and largely acted as a symbolic reminder for each to remain on opposite sides of the bed. As a contraceptive device then, the bundling board was not very effective, and premarital pregnancies were not uncommon in Colonial times.

[2] Jumping the broom is a phrase and custom relating to a wedding ceremony where the couple jumps over a broom. It has been suggested that the custom is based on an 18th-century idiomatic expression for "sham marriage", "marriage of doubtful validity"; it was popularized in the context of the introduction of civil marriage in Britain with the Marriage Act 1836.

There have also been suggestions that the expression may derive from an actual custom of jumping over a "broomstick" (where "broom" refers to the common broom rather than the household implement) associated with the Romani people of the United Kingdom especially those in Wales.

The custom of a marrying couple literally jumping over a broom is now most widespread among African Americans, popularized in the 1970s by the novel and miniseries Roots but originating in the mid 19th century as a practice in antebellum slavery in the United States.


	17. Chapter 17: Moments of Transition

Chapter 17: Moments of Transition

Saturday Afternoon in the Park

"Sometimes, Carrots, you are unnecessarily suspicious of me," Nick said. He leaned over and tossed the empty soda can into a nearby recycle bin. "Two points!"

Judy settled her head more comfortably in the fox's lap. "Careful, you'll spill some valuable package," she said.

"Then the suspicious rabbit would have her head dumped in the grass! Oh, horrors of horrors! Whoopsie!"

"Do it, and you'll regret it, Nick. And are you saying that there are times when I am **_necessarily_** suspicious of the sly fox?" Judy asked.

"Not today, and not this week. Are all rabbits so suspicious of foxes, or is it just you?"

"You were in bed with her."

"And we were kept apart by a broom. This time," Nick said.

" ** _This time!?_** " Judy said, and sat up to glare at the fox.

"Yes, this time."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I still want to have kits of mine – not adopted. That means that I'm going to need the assistance of a vixen somewhere along the line."

"And you're going to …"

"Not necessarily with Edda, but she has a lot to say for her. She's young, she's strong, she likes me – and she understands 'the game' even if she does come from Podunk."

"And you'd just … I can't believe you, sometimes! I thought you loved me…"

"And I will have your back – I'd be willing to die for you, though I don't plan on doing **_that_** anytime soon. We're partners, as well as being lovers. But I'm not willing to be the end of the Wilde line just yet."

"You could adopt – if we married. There'd be someone to carry on…"

"But it wouldn't be **_my_** line – oh, I don't say we can't adopt. It's just that I want one kit of my blood – vixen or tod, I don't care which. But I want it to be **_my_** bloodline, not someone else's."

"There are so many children in need – this city eats its own so often. You've said yourself how tough it was growing up in Foxtown."

"And I don't have any objection to adopting some of those kits – but I just want at least one of my own blood to carry on. Vixen or tod, it doesn't matter. And unlike you, I can't give birth. You can become pregnant – either by artificial insemination from an anonymous donor, or … from some good looking buck somewhere."

"I would **_never_** take someone else to my bed, Nick!"

"Ok, then maybe you'd just adopt some rabbit kittens. But you have a choice, which is something that I don't really have if I want my bloodline to continue."

"After what we did this morning…"

"At your request," Nick said, leaning over to lick the end of the bunny's nose, "I simply 'surrendered to the inevitable'."

"You are incorrigible – and that's anything but a compliment right now!"

"You wouldn't have me any other way," Nick said.

"Don't be all that sure about that, smart guy," Judy said.

Saturday Evening, Nick's Apartment

The buzzer sounded, and Nick bounded over to the intercom. "Is it you, Judy?"

"No, Nick," came the reply, "it's Edda. I take it that I've beaten Judy in tonight?"

"Seems so – I'll buzz you in," Nick said, as he held down the entry button for a long ten count, to allow the vixen time to open the heavy security entry door. He turned back to the kitchenette to put the finishing touches on the night's munchies.

No more than a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Nick strode over, checked that it was Edda through the peep hole, and opened the door. "Enter, and be welcome. I've just about finished the munchies. Judy doesn't seem to be answering her phone."

"Are you worried?"

"Not really – we had a bit of an argument this afternoon. I suspect that I'm being sent to limbo for the moment."

"What's on the schedule for tonight?" Edda asked.

"Since Judy seems to be less than interested in joining us tonight, maybe we might try something I've been wondering about – it's on Mammal Broadcasting Corporations local broadcast station. It's called 'Battlebots'."

"I'll bite – what is it? Some sort of animation with giant robots fighting monsters?"

"You must have had an interesting childhood in Podunk, Edda. No, it's supposed to be a cage match between robots run by mammal teams. They – the two teams in each match – try to use their robot's weapons to destroy or at least render inoperative the opposing team's robot," Nick said.

"That sounds like a high-tech demolition derby. Sounds like a great entertainment – as long as you have some hard cider to go with it."

"Hard cider, spiced chicken wings, nachos, and fried crickets with dipping sauce," Nick said.

"Grab me out a cider and bring on the nachos!"

Nick laughed and brought out the refreshments. "Battlebots starts in just a minute … now where is that control?" Nick said, as he lifted cushion after cushion.

Edda held up the control. "Two points, fellow fox." She tossed the control to the tod.

"Ok, settle down…" Nick said, as he turned on the TV and changed to the local MBC station. The opening credits of Battlebots had already started, and the summary clips of previous battles flashed across the screen – a collection of the most spectacular robot carnage scenes from the preliminary battles from the previous week. Two minutes of parts flying, flame throwers toasting, and drones dropping onto small opponents and tossing them onto the obstacles in the battle zone.

Edda stared, mouth open, until the first commercial interrupted the carnage. "Where … has … this … show … been … all … my … life! This is better than stock cars!" She bounced up and down on the couch. "I LOVE IT ALREADY!"

"Calm down, Edda," Nick said, patting the vixen on the head. "That's just the opening credits. This is the first of the elimination rounds. The preliminary heats were last week."

"Is it available 'on demand'? Can we watch those heats after this show?"

"I think I've created a monster," Nick said, as he picked up and devoured a hot wing.

#

"Ok, which of these two do you favor?" Edda asked. "I like Godzilla – it's big, it's got those grasping arms, and it's got a flame thrower!"

"I'd put my money – if we were betting – on The Rotary Eviscerator. It's a full 'bot spinner, and if it gets a chance to 'get up to speed'; any contact with Godzilla will knock that big walker halfway across the battlefield. And there's a fuel tank for that flame thrower…"

"Behind armor plate – or weren't you paying attention when they showed the work on 'Zilla?"

"It's behind armor plate, yes. But … I have an advantage – I've seen the preliminary heats. And the Eviscerator did just that to its first opponent – another 'grab, hold, and overheat by flame' type 'bot," Nick said.

The announcer interrupted the two foxes. "Red team, ready?" The red team driver, a Siberian tiger, slapped the red button. "Blue team, ready?" The blue team driver, a red fox, leaned over and pressed the blue button.

"You'd be betting against our kind, Nick…" Edda said.

"Smart money goes with the odds. Godzilla is flashy – and I like the flash work the blue team did on their 'bot, but … they're up against an **_efficient_** 'bot, that's designed to do one thing and do it well. Kill the opposition."

"What are you willing to be on your choice, Nick? Care to put something more than just ego on the line?" Edda turned to face Nick, grinned, and licked her chops.

Nick jerked back. "I don't take sucker bets, Edda – this is suddenly sounding like a case of 'heads you win, tails I lose'."

"Hush, Nick!" The countdown display had begun on the tube. The lights above the battlefield flashed red three times, then yellow, three times, and finally flashed green to the sound of klaxons.

Godzilla came out quickly, but the Eviscerator ran away until it had spun up to speed – and it turned and charged the "grabber" 'bot. They met with a resounding *clang* and the Eviscerator flew one way, Godzilla was thrown in the opposite direction, to land on its back. A large chunk of Godzilla's lower armor went flying in a third direction, to bounce off the battlefield wall hard enough to crack the thirty millimeter thick Lexan barrier.

"Wow! That was one heck of a hit! I **_love_** this game!" Edda shouted, bouncing on the couch and hugging Nick. Nick chugged down half of a bottle of hard cider, and let the vixen clutch him tightly.

"That's 'Zilla's weakness – it has to grab its opponent for the flamethrower to really work well and overheat the opponent's 'bot. And to grab a whole 'bot spinner is … rough on the 'bot doing it."

"Whether the rock hits the pitcher or the pitcher hits the rock…"

"It's going to be bad for the pitcher. Exactly!" Nick finished the Fuchs' favorite expression.

The Eviscerator, at full spinning speed again, closed with a just-righted-Godzilla, and this time a larger chunk of armor was torn off; the Eviscerator was thrown clear across the field by the impact, and the flamethrower fuel tank ruptured on Godzilla. A spark ignited the spilled fuel, and Godzilla was engulfed in a fireball that filled a quarter of the battlefield with a "boom" that overloaded the microphones in the battle zone.

"I think that's a loss, Edda…" Nick said, turning to face the vixen.

"Wow! That's better than demolition derby anytime! Is it always this flashy?"

"Often enough…but this was only one fight – and we're only fifteen minutes in to a two hour show."

"You're going to play the preliminary heats after this? Please? Pretty please with sugar on it?" Edda asked.

"It will take us past midnight…"

"I don't care – this is too good to wait for next week," Edda said. "I want **_more_** **!"**

"I have created a monster…" Nick muttered.

#

"What time is it, now?" Edda asked.

"Zero dark thirty. I forgot that the prelims ran two and a quarter hours." He looked the vixen over and sniffed her breath. "You're drunk."

"I should think so," Edda said, and giggled. She counted the "dead soldiers" in front of her. "Eight hard ciders for me. You only drank four. You should drink … five more … to match me?"

"Your math is off – I'd need four more. But I'm at my limit right now."

"Way too drunk for me to walk home – and I'm not sleeping on this couch. It's **_too hard_** ," Edda said, and peeled off her shirt.

"Ah…Edda…"

"Don't worry, I don't bite. But … I've got dibs on the bathroom," she said, as she jumped up and dashed for the washroom.

"Great. At least she should go to sleep quickly with all the cider she's consumed," Nick muttered, as he collected the "dead soldiers" and the dirty dishes. He dumped the empty bottles in the recycle bin without bothering to rinse them out; the dishes went into the sink. "I'll wash them … tomorrow."

The sound of his bedroom door opening and a heavy object thumping down on his bed signaled that he had a free bathroom for his own use. He finished his own business quickly, and picked up Fuchs' pants, panties and shirt and tossed them onto the couch.

Sunday Morning, Nick's Apartment

Edda burrowed underneath the couch, her brush waving and flicking angrily, a white tipped red flag over her back. As Judy stepped in through the apartment door, the first thing that caught her eyes was the Northern end of the South pointing vixen.

"Nick, **_where did you put my panties!?_** " Edda called out from her vantage point, head buried underneath the couch.

Nick called out through his bedroom door, "I tossed them on to the couch – along with your shirt and pants. You just tore your clothes off and practically dove into bed last night."

Edda backed up, pulling her muzzle out from underneath the couch. "Ok, I guess one of the pillows must have fallen down on top of everything…"

"Edda … Fuchs. Just what have you been doing?" Judy asked.

"Eeep!" Edda shrieked and, grabbing her rediscovered clothes, made a mad dash for the bathroom. Nick sauntered out of his bedroom, wearing only a pair of shorts.

"Nick, I don't believe you," Judy said, turned and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

"That didn't go very well," Nick muttered. He went back into his bedroom to get his phone. Three calls to Hopps went straight to voice mail.


	18. Chapter 18: Proverbs 15:1-4

Chapter 18: Proverbs 15:1-4

 _Soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger_

 _The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouths of fools poureth out foolishness._

 _The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good._

 _A wholesom tongue is a tree of life: but perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit._

 _King James Bible, Proverbs 15:1-4_

Sunday Morning, after services

"I'm rather surprised to see you here, Fuchs," Judy said, as she stomped out of church.

"And you're surprised not to see Nick? You've hurt him, you know. And I thought I was 'Edda' not just the naked patronymic to you, Judy," Edda said.

Judy stopped, and turned to scowl at the taller vixen. "I hurt **_him_**? Does he have any idea how **_I_** feel right now?"

"If you'd return his calls, you might be able to tell him."

"If I spoke to him right now, I would not say nice things. And after today's sermon…" Judy said, then, shaking her head, turned and tried stomping away.

Edda jogged to catch up with the bounding bunny. "Please stop and talk to me, at least!" she said, as she put herself in front of the bunny, and jogged backwards.

Judy stopped with a sigh. "Jogging backwards like that you could get hurt," Judy said, and taking a deep calming breath, managed to control her temper. "I don't see why **_you_** came to church today."

"Do you think I'm so sin-free that I can afford not to try and get better? We have to talk – about Nick and about other things as well. I'm trying to be a 'good mammal' right now – can you try to meet me halfway on this?" Edda asked, settling down on her haunches to allow her to look the lapine doe eye-to-eye.

"If I'm going to have to talk to you about Nick, I'm going to do it over ice cream. We'll talk when we get to Berry-Berry," Judy said.

Berry-Berry Restaurant

"Ok, Edda, you have your blueberry sundae, so say what you meant to say," Judy said.

"Only after you have some of your strawberry and ice cream bowl," Edda replied.

Judy let out a long, dramatic sigh, and scooped up vanilla ice cream and half a strawberry, and began nibbling around the edge of the ice cream and fruit mix. "Satisfied?"

"Your mood will get better as you get more sweets on your tongue. And if you could take a moment to think about things, you might consider improving Nick's mood, too…"

"You seemed to be doing a pretty good job of that this morning," Judy said, between bits of strawberry and ice cream.

It was Edda's turn to take a deep breath. "You think that Nick and I were 'doing the naughty', don't you?"

"Well, what else would you have been doing, that you had to ask him where your panties got to?"

"Have you ever been drunk? I mean, 'three sheets to the wind' drunk?"

"Oh, so you are excusing your actions because you couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong? You know that doesn't work – if you got drunk, you formed the requisite 'criminal mind' by taking the initial action, to **_get_** drunk."

Edda shook her head. "None so blind as those who will not see. If you're going to approach this like a criminal investigation, do it with an impartial eye, and grant 'innocent until proven guilty'. The two of us stayed up to watch a **_really_** neat TV show that Nick stumbled across – 'Battlebots'. It was better than stock cars crossed with a demolition derby for me. I had a **_lot_** of hard cider, and while Nick wasn't **_as_** drunk as I was, he was plastered nonetheless."

"So, your excuse is that you both got drunk, and then started playing footsie?"

"How many times do you have to be told? We didn't do **_anything_** naughty, other than getting drunk. We slept in the same bed – but the emphasis is on **_slept_**. Nick insisted that I drink a lot of water before sacking out – and he did likewise – so we weren't hung over completely afterwards. That's just common sense. But I just tore off my clothes and dove into bed. No hanky-panky."

"And why should I believe this?"

"Because it's the truth. And the way you're treating Nick is just plain **_raw_**! He doesn't deserve to be treated that way!"

"Nick is **_not_** the kind and generous tod you think he is, Edda," Judy said.

"I'm quite well aware of his record, Judy. He was a con artist staying just this side of the law," Edda held her thumb and index finger claws perhaps two or three millimeters apart, "for most of his life. Then something happened, and he reformed."

"How did you find **_that_** out about Nick? Were you going through Records sometime when neither of us was watching?"

"No, I just talked with the precinct's gossip – you know him, Benjamin Clawhauser," Edda said.

"Clawhauser? What does **_he_** know?" Judy asked.

"Oh, just about everything about everybody. But back to the point – Nick was miserable, and you're not responding to his texts or answering his calls made him sick. He's probably still moping around his apartment trying to call you and going straight to voice mail. I don't know how you feel about him – I certainly wouldn't treat a tod the way you do – but he's got it **_bad_** for you, Judy."

"Then why is he … well … doing **_whatever_** he was doing with you?"

"We were **_relaxing_** , L-T. You might think about doing it yourself, sometime. Nick tried to call someone to join in, and she didn't seem to be very responsive. Not even a 'no, I'm busy' in either text or phoned response. You 'get' to him – and when you're mean to him, it **_hurts_** him. Then he's not as much fun for anyone to be around."

"There are times when 'three's a crowd'."

"And you're thinking that **_you're_** the 'third wheel'? Give me a break, L-T. You're being thick. He's very much hooked on you."

"Then why has he brought you in and gotten all 'cuddly' with **_you_**?"

Edda took another deep breath, in through the mouth and out through the nose. She tore into her blueberry sundae for several minutes before she responded. "He started it out of a good heart – I was lonely and homesick for Podunk. This is the furthest I've been from my folks in my **_life_**. And everyone here moves so fast! And after fighting through the Academy – this has been my dream for most of my life – what did they do? They dressed me up like a common prostitute to entice 'Johns'. I was made up to look like … I don't want to think about it. Call it hazing – did you get **_anything_** like that when you started on the force?"

It was Judy's turn to take a deep breath. "I was put on parking duty. But what does that have to do with Nick?"

"Nick heard something – don't ask me how, or where – and he took me aside to talk to me. And then he pulled in some chits he had with Vice to get me reassigned back to regular patrol duty."

"Because?"

"As he put it, 'if I'm going to be thought of as sly and shifty, the least I can do is use some of that bad-boy reputation to help another vulpine'. That's not all he said, of course."

"What else? Did he note how big and thick your brush was? Or …"

"He was quite gentlemanly about it – but yes, I did notice when his eyes strayed to that part of my anatomy. It's not something I can really do anything about – other than **_trying_** to look less attractive. But tods are **_always_** going to notice. What Nick does is to notice things **_other_** than the thickness of my brush. Although he can forget from time to time…"

"As when he started calling you 'bigbrush'?"

"Yeah, well, no one said he was perfect. But he deserves to be better treated than you've treated him this weekend. He's probably still moping around in his apartment – I tried to get him to join me at church, but he begged off. I think we both know why."

"If he's afraid to see me, well, then, maybe he's showing his intelligence – for once."

"Are you really that upset with him? If you want to break off whatever relationship you have with him – doesn't he at least deserve the honesty of a face-to-face? Would you treat a perp as badly as you've treated Nick? Convicting him on evidence that is purely circumstantial?"

"We don't convict perps, Fuchs," Judy said, her voice growing cold.

"I know – but where's the 'preponderance of evidence' necessary for an arrest? If you won't treat Nick to the same standard that you'd treat any perp on the street, what kind of cop **_are_** you? And he deserves **_better_** treatment."

"Ok, but I have a question to ask you, Miss Edda Fuchs. Just what are **_your_** feelings for Nick?"

"I like him, L-T. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But I'm not trying to get him to play 'push-tail', if that's what you're asking."

"If he asked you, would you?"

"Not right now, no. But if you tear out his heart and stomp on it, and he looks my way after another six or eight months, so I know it's not just rebound? I don't know. Maybe. But I'd be there to try and help him through the pain – I'm a friend of his, L-T. You do understand that? Friends don't treat friends like crap."

"And you think I'm treating him like crap?"

"You want an honest answer?"

"Yes, Edda, I do."

"Yes, I think you're treating him like crap. You're treating him like he's a young buck and you're both in high school. He's an adult – immature in some ways, but a heck of a lot more mature than either of us in others. And if you can't see that, then you're not **_worth_** his affection."

"You haven't heard what he's said about marriage … and children," Judy said.

"Maybe, but would you care to wager that I can't guess what he said?" Edda asked.

"What sort of wager?"

"If I'm right, you apologize…"

"Apologize, to Nick!?"

"If I'm right, you apologize to Nick. Yes. And mean it!"

"And what happens if you're wrong?"

"What would you want me to do, if I lose?"

Judy sat, thinking for several minutes, the silence only broken by the sound of sundae, berries, and ice cream being consumed. "If you're wrong, you keep your hands off Nick."

"I've kept my hands off him to date – though there has to be a time limit imposed. Say … until you and he make up, or three months pass. If you can't fix your problems by then, I should be allowed to do – or say – anything I care to, subject to restraints of common courtesy."

"Agreed. Now, what do you think he said?"

"That he wanted kits of his own – not adopted. That you might be amenable to adoption, but that he could handle you becoming pregnant via anonymous donor."

"Did. Nick. Tell. You?" Judy managed to say, carefully controlling her voice to avoid it breaking.

"No – but I can put myself in Nick's place – so to speak. He's a tod. He can't get pregnant. He's a fox – like me. We don't go in for large litters like rabbits. What's the typical litter size for bunnies – six to twelve? Typical litter size for foxes is now only one or two kits. You've got what, two hundred odd siblings?"

"Two hundred seventy-five," Judy answered.

"Nick's an only child – I've never asked what might have happened to any possible sibs of his. His parents are both dead, and he doesn't talk about any aunts, uncles, or cousins. So if he doesn't have kits of his own – his line ends with him."

"He could still adopt…" Judy began, then shut her mouth with an almost audible snap.

"Not of his blood. So he is going to need a surrogate – some vixen who is willing to have at least one kit by him, and either give the kit up, or raise the kit in some sort of 'extended pack' situation. So … did I get close to what he told **_you_**?"

"All in the ten ring, Edda. I'll see him as soon as I finish my ice cream," Judy said. "I think that I need to see him in private, though."

"I wouldn't expect anything different, Judy."


	19. Chapter 19: Moving On

Chapter 19: Moving On…

Sunday Afternoon, Nick's Apartment

Nick was sprawled on the couch, a sleep mask covering his eyes; the stereo was playing an old Simon & Garfunkel album, **_The Sounds of Silence_**. The eleventh cut, "I Am A Rock" was playing, and Nick was singing along. "I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain/It's laughter and it's loving I disdain/I am a rock, I am an island". There was a knock at the door.

Nick took the remote and stopped the playback. "Is that you, Judy?" An incomprehensible murmur was his only reply. Nick sighed, set the remote aside and walked to the door; he looked through the peephole. A pair of rabbit ears blocked his view.

Nick unlocked the door and opened it; Judy walked into the apartment with her head and ears down.

"If you feel as bad as you look, Carrots, we're certainly a pair," Nick said. Judy walked over to the living room couch and flopped down, silent and head still bowed. "Hello? Is there someone in there?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Judy whispered.

Nick joined her on the couch, wrapped his arms around her. "You rabbits, so emotional. You're forgiven – not that you really need it from me."

Judy looked up at him. "If not from you – I was **_so_** angry with you, for something you didn't do…"

"Oh, I'm sorry – I **_should_** have made love to Edda, then?" Nick interrupted.

Judy punched the fox hard just under the rib cage. "That was **_not_** what I meant, Nick, and you know it!"

"'We all have limitations', Carrots," Nick said, as he managed to catch his breath.

Judy tried to take a deep, calming, breath. "I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean to accuse you of something that you clearly hadn't done. **_Had_** you done what I immediately suspected you of, I would still be mad at you – with justification."

Nick leaned over and kissed the lapine doe on the forehead. "'Real life's a little bit more complicated than a slogan on a bumper sticker'," Nick said.

Judy shook her head. "Nick, did you…"

"Memorize your speech? Well … it meant a great deal to me – then, and now."

"Is this a con?"

Nick struck a pose. "'Real life is messy. We all have limitations. We all make mistakes, which means, hey, glass half full, we all have a lot in common. And the more we try to understand one another, the more exceptional each of us will be. ... Look inside yourself and recognize that change starts with you. It starts with me. It starts with all of us.'" He relaxed, and looked down at the rabbit. "Did I get it right?"

"You were serious. Ok, it's hard to stay mad at you – did you memorize the **_entire_** speech I gave to your graduating class?"

"I **_think_** I got it all. But I'll admit, I did cheat. After the ceremony, I wrote it down – and I **_think_** I got it all down accurately."

"You didn't record it?"

"With pen and paper – no carrot pen. They didn't supply such gear to my class," Nick said. "But I accept your unnecessary apology. Next time, though – stay around long enough to find out if you **_really_** need to run amok?"

"I'll try not to fly off the handle the way I did – condemning without giving time for a reasoned defense. But sometimes … I will screw up. It's called having a temper."

Nick snorted. "As if I hadn't already noticed," he said, rubbing the sore spot underneath his rib cage.

Sunday Evening, Berry-Berry

"What are you having, Nick?" Judy asked.

"Vanilla ice cream and blueberries," Nick replied.

Edda laughed. "Always blueberries – no matter what else you're having? If I didn't know better, I'd expect you to have blueberries with your fried crickets," she said.

Nick took a deep breath. "I have a side order of fruit when I have fried foods – so blueberries would be entirely appropriate. They – and apples – are almost the perfect food."

"Then why is it that you never seem to have all that many apples in your flicks night plates?" Edda asked.

"Because they're too expensive – if I had as many as two hungry foxes might eat, I'd quickly go broke!" Nick answered. "We have a nice lake here and some rivers, so we have lots of fish. But the climate here isn't the best for apples – you need to go to the Northwest for the best ones."

"And here I didn't think someone 'raised on concrete' knew anything about farming…" Judy said before she filled her mouth with rasberries from her bowl.

Nick looked up at the ceiling. "No mercy, none whatsoever."

Edda looked the tod over carefully from eartip down to where his chest was blocked by the table, then back up to his face; she looked eye-to-eye in a predator on prey stare until Nick shook his head and looked down. "No quarter asked, or given, Nick," she said.

"I **_really_** wish you wouldn't do that, Edda," Nick said.

"Do what?" Judy asked.

"She was looking at me …"

"Huh?" Judy said.

"Not just looking, she was looking at me like I was prey…" Nick said.

"And you were saying how we weren't showing you any mercy, so I thought I'd demonstrate," Edda said.

Nick sighed. "And to think that I gave up my former career to spend my time doing **_this_** ," he said.

Monday Morning, Precinct 1 Bullpen

"Wilde, training officer for Fuchs. Wilde and Fuchs – there have been a series of robberies of small merchants in Foxtown, foot patrol in Foxtown – see if you can get anything more than 'robbed by disguised thugs' out of the victims. Delgato, Wolfowitz, McHorn – Meadowlands S.W.A.T.. Hopps – report to Vice for special duty…"

Nick patted Judy on the shoulder and whispered condolences in her ear.

Monday Noon, Code 7 (on meal break) in Foxtown

Nick looked down at the open face turkey sandwich, half drowned in white gravy. He took a deep breath, breathing in both through his nose and mouth to gather up every scent molecule possible.

Edda looked over at her training officer and managed to suppress a laugh – barely. "I have never known **_anyone_** who could be so entranced by food."

Nick looked up from his sandwich. "And what else should I be 'entranced' by? I notice thatyou've been careful to shower and de-scent **_yourself_** quite carefully…"

"I wouldn't want to distract you from the proper performance of your duties, Officer Wilde," Edda said.

"Is this a holdover from your short stay in Vice?"

Edda shuddered. "The scents that they had me put on had 'range and striking power'. I hadn't **_known_** there were such things before I was assigned – temporarily, thank goodness – to Vice. It wasn't pleasant. It was … a perversion of what I like to do…" Fuchs replied.

"Oh, dressing up? Or flirting?" Wilde asked.

"A bit of both – but the 'dressing up' was … a lot less pleasant than what I like to do. The 'perfumes' that I put on – and I doubt that I need to tell **_you_** just **_where_** I put on those scents – were not what 'nice vixens' do back in Podunk."

"Well, you're in the 'big city' now, Fuchs. You need to 'broaden your horizons' just a bit."

"I heard what the 'broadening of horizons' did to **_you,_** Wilde. I'd think you'd be more sympathetic," Edda said.

"Didn't say I wasn't sympathetic – but you have to get used to the way things are done here in Zootopia. Though you can keep your country-bred moral sense – I have no problem with having a fellow officer having a moral sense."

Edda laughed. "That puts you at odds with IA[1] and completely at odds with Vice." She looked over at the tod's sandwich, which somehow had nearly disappeared during the conversation. "How do you manage to talk and eat at the same time?"

"It's a learned skill, Fuchs. One you may wish to develop," Nick said, looking at his phone to get the time. "We only have thirty minutes for lunch, and we've already used seventeen minutes. So you'd better focus on eating unless you plan on take out for later," he finished, looking at the nearly untouched meal in front of the vixen.

Edda glared at the tod, briefly, then turned her attention to her own plate. The tod chuckled while the vixen wolfed her lunch down.

Monday evening, Shift Change, Precinct 1

"Ok, Fuchs, you write up the notes from today's work, and leave them on my desk – I'll check them over and we can go over any necessary corrections tomorrow morning before roll call. You did good today," Nick said, and headed off for his and Hopps' office.

He opened the door, flipped on the lights, and took a deep breath. No scent of rabbit – clean or perfumed. He chuckled. _She probably headed straight for the showers – if they did anything to her like they did to Fuchs. Ah well, 'a policeman's lot is not a happy one'_ _ **[2]**_ _._ In a way, things had been much simpler when he was on his own, and just scamming and hustling his way through life. Looking back, though, he was happier now – and, all things considered, more financially secure (even if he had less 'free time' than in his previous life). _Win some, lose some – on the whole, life is better now, at least. And it's nice having someone who really cares about me – even if there are still some bumps in the road to deal with._

* * *

[1] IA = Internal Affairs.

[2] POLICEMAN'S SONG

From the Gilbert & Sullivan opera "Pirates of Penzance" (1879)

(William Schwenk Gilbert / Sir Arthur Sullivan)

WHEN A FELON'S NOT ENGAGED IN HIS EMPLOYMENT (his employment)

OR MATURING HIS FELONIOUS LITTLE PLANS (little plans)

HIS CAPACITY FOR INNOCENT ENJOYMENT (-cent enjoyment)

IS JUST AS GREAT AS ANY HONEST MAN'S (honest mans)

OUR FEELINGS WE WITH DIFFICULTY SMOTHER (-culty smother)

WHEN CONSTABULARY DUTY'S TO BE DONE (to be done)

AH, TAKE ONE CONSIDERATION WITH ANOTHER (with another)

A POLICEMAN'S LOT IS NOT A HAPPY ONE

AHHH

WHEN CONSTABULARY DUTY'S TO BE DONE, TO BE DONE,

A POLICEMAN'S LOT IS NOT A HAPPY ONE.

WHEN THE ENTERPRISING BURGLARS NOT A'BURGLING (not a'burgling)

WHEN THE CUT THROAT ISN'T OCCUPIED IN CRIME (-pied in crime)

HE LOVES TO HEAR THE LITTLE BROOK A'GURGLING (brook a'gurgling)

AND LISTEN TO THE MERRY VILLAGE CHIME (village chime)

WHEN THE COSTER'S FINISHED JUMPING ON HIS MOTHER (on his mother)

HE LOVES TO LIE A'BASKING IN THE SUN (in the sun)

AH, TAKE ONE CONSIDERATION WITH ANOTHER (with another)

A POLICEMAN'S LOT IS NOT A HAPPY ONE

AHHH

WHEN CONSTABULARY DUTY'S TO BE DONE, TO BE DONE,

A POLICEMAN'S LOT IS NOT A HAPPY ONE (happy one).


	20. Chapter 20: End Notes

Chapter 20: End Notes

Thus ends **Recovery and Resolutions**. It's not the end of the story, because no story ever really ends. The next element of the arc will be published in the not-too-distant future; the current working title is inspired by a quote from Lyndon B. Johnson, "I have learned that only two things are necessary to keep one's wife happy. First, let her think she's having her own way. And second, let her have it." The next element of the arc, **Her Own Way** , should be up within the next fortnight or so.


End file.
